Hazy
by ThatBrownEyedIrishGirl
Summary: The deaths of Peter Hale and Kate Argent bring a whole new list of threats to Olivia Wright's life. Between balancing a budding romance, a troubled friend and family secrets, Olivia is going to have to give it her all - and it is not going to be easy. Sequel to Little Red. Stiles/Oc
1. Chapter 1

Hazy

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for my original characters.

And we're back! Before I begin the sequel to Little Red, I want to thank everyone again for the support of my first fic. Hearing how much you love Olivia makes me the happiest writer in the world. I never expected to gain this much support, and I'm so grateful.

For any new readers joining us, I recommend you go back and read the first fic of this series before you read this. It's called _Little Red_, as mentioned above.

But for everyone about to read this first chapter, I sincerely hope you enjoy, and can't wait to hear from you all!

(_Oh, and another small note; because of the, erm, spotty timeline of Teen Wolf, I've had to make a few changes. Only a couple of days of course.)_

* * *

A firework exploded outside, lighting up the night sky with beautiful sparkling shades of blue, green and gold. The sight was breathtaking, the sound of the explosion of light making my heart beat a little bit faster in my chest.

"You're about two hours too early!" Carter yelled at the sky with a laugh, grabbing a handful of the popcorn from the bowl before flopping down beside me. I grinned at his comment, before turning my attention to the little girl sat on my knee. Her hands were clamped over her ears.

I softly removed them, and gave Lucy a gentle smile,"Did it give you a fright?"

"Just the bang." The little girl explained, leaning her head against my shoulder, and I smiled, kissing the top of her head.

"Me too," I admitted. "They all sound like that. So loud that you can feel your heart thump. I can get you earmuffs if you want them."

"No," Lucy shook her head. "I don't mind."

I nodded back, and then glanced up, sharing a look with my sister. We both nodded to each other, and I gently ushered Lucy onto Carter's lap.

I went back into my house and up to my room, locating the earmuffs. I glanced at the clock, and heaved a sigh. Just under two hours until the new year.

My family and I had decided to forgo any parties this year, and spend our first New Year's Eve in Beacon Hills together. Dad had set up the barbecue, and we had laughed and spent some much needed family time together.

The fun didn't stop me from feeling guilty though.

After all, my best friend was still in the hospital, unconscious. Had been for over a week now. Lydia was stable, and her vitals were fine. All the doctors were mystified as to why she hadn't woken up yet. The only comfort we were given was the fact that nothing serious was stopping her from waking up. It would simply take time.

Since the attack, things in Beacon Hills had been quiet. Well, quieter. There had been obvious fall out after Kate's death. Chris Argent had banned Allison from seeing Scott, and every day, more and more Argents had arrived for Kate's funeral, which would be in a few days. The number of hunters now in the town had put us all on edge.

Derek still hadn't been seen. I had called him numerous times for the first few days after he became an alpha, and when he refused to answer, I refused to waste time on him. I just couldn't afford to play his supportive shoulder with everything else going on. When he came back, however, there would be serious words. After I made sure he was okay.

Realizing I had stopped mid-step on the stairs, lost in my thoughts, I began to move again. I headed outside, placing the earmuffs on the table before taking my seat again. Lucy may have said she didn't want them, but we knew the little girl would cave eventually. No kid liked loud noises, and I gave her props; the sound of fireworks made me cry until I was eight.

After that, I fell into a silence. Conversation flowed freely between my family members, and even my dad seemed to relax and let loose, which was strange to see. I eventually took out my phone and began replying to the early Happy New Year messages, and time began to fly by.

"Oh, guys, come on, the countdown!" Jen squealed excitedly, ushering Lucy up off the chair. I was surprised the little girl was still awake, though her determination to watch the fireworks was admirable.

"Put the phone down, teenager." Carter teased, taking my phone, and setting it to one side. I rolled my eyes, but stood up with him to enjoy the fireworks.

As soon as the clock struck midnight, cheers could be heard from blocks away. I laughed as Carter let out a cheer, and allowed myself to enjoy the moment.

"It's midnight!" Mom laughed, smiling at all of us,"Make your New Year's wish!"

Carter closed his eyes, and clasped his hands together dramatically,"I wish for money and pizza."

"Why wish for both?" Jen frowned, talking over the sounds of the fireworks,"Why not just wish for money, and then buy pizza?"

"Because then I'd have to spend the money." Carter replied, as though it was obvious. Jen looked as though she didn't know whether to laugh or explode.

"What else would you do with it?!"

Laughing, I turned away from my bickering siblings and moved towards my niece. She was staring up at the bright sparkling lights, and took my hand as I leaned down beside her.

"What are you wishing for, Luce?" I asked, hugging her to my side.

"I wish..." She pouted in concentration,"I wish that everyone is happy, and I get lots and lots of toys and cupcakes."

I giggled,"That's an excellent wish, Luce."

"What about you?" Lucy asked, winding her little arm around my shoulder,"What do you wish for?"

Giving my answer the same level of thought that she had, I pursed my lips, and looked up at the fireworks. Sighing softly, I looked back to Lucy, a warm, but hesitant smile on my face.

"I wish that everyone I love will be happy. I hope that they'll be safe."

Lucy grinned back at me, and I tenderly reached out and soothed her hair back from her face.

"I like that wish. But you didn't wish for cupcakes."

Laughing, I picked Lucy up and twirled her around. When we came to a stop, I placed a kiss on her nose.

"How silly of me. Guess you'll have to share your cupcakes with me."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Lucy was asleep, the excitement catching up to her. As Jen bowed out for the night, wishing us all a happy new year, I tried to retire to bed.

At quarter to one, I gave up. There were too many thoughts swirling around in my head, and I knew instantly where I wanted to be.

Throwing back the blanket, I threw on a pair of grey sweatpants, and a maroon hoodie. I slipped my feet into a comfy pair of ugg boots and wrapped a scarf around my neck, tying my red hair back into a bun and grabbing my keys.

Sneaking out without my parents knowing was easier than anticipated, though I was caught by my brother as I passed the kitchen.

"Well, well, well..." Carter smirked, closing the fridge door,"What do we have here?"

"You're still here?" I asked, earning a shrug.

"I'm crashing here tonight, but that's not the point. Is little baby sister sneaking out?"

I rolled my eyes,"It's not like I'm going to a party or anything."

"Lame."

"I'm going to the hospital," I confessed. "I didn't get a chance to go, and I can't sleep, so..."

The joking smile fell from Carter's face and he nodded in understanding,"I get it. Will they even let you see her? It's after midnight."

"Melissa will." I answered.

"It's not your night though, right?"

I paused. No, it wasn't my night.

Since the attack, Stiles, Scott, Allison and I had taken to spending a night each at the hospital. To everyone else, we were simply there in case our best friend woke up, and in truth, that was part of it. The other part was that we were there in case Lydia woke up feeling a little bit more like a wolf than a girl.

I wasn't sure on what the policy of staying overnight at a hospital, but Conrad had offered his office as a place to sleep if we needed it, and Melissa had too much of a heart to send us away.

"No, Stiles is on Lydia watch tonight." I answered.

"I see." Carter nodded, a smirk slowly forming on his face. I tensed instantly, shooting him a glare,"That's not why I'm going."

"I didn't say anything."

Rolling my eyes, I huffed and turned on my heel. I didn't need to beg him to keep my sneaking out a secret. Carter knew I had covered for him too many times in the past to risk exposing me.

I climbed into my car, and made the short enough drive to the local hospital. It was a lot quieter now that it was nearing 1 AM, and I found my way to Lydia's room easily.

As anticipated, Stiles was already there. Sat in one of the teal coloured seats, some sort of comic book in hand, he did a literal double take when he saw me, jumping to his feet.

"What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Did something happen -"

"Stiles," I placed my hands on his forearms, effectively shutting off the stream of frantic questions. "Nothing happened, everything's fine. I just... I couldn't sleep. I wanted to sit with Lydia for a while."

"Oh." Stiles nodded,"Yeah, okay, that's... non dangerous. Did I freak out a little bit?"

"A little." I gave a laugh, noting the dark circles under his eyes,"Maybe you should go to Conrad's office, get a bit of sleep. I'll wake you when I'm leaving."

"Are you sure?" Stiles asked,"This is kinda cheating on the 'one night per person' thing."

I smiled, turning him around in the direction of my uncle's office,"Go, sleep. You can owe me one. I'll only be a few minutes anyway."

Stiles nodded, and began walking down the hallway,"Scream if you need me. Actually no, don't scream. Screaming is bad."

"Stiles, go!" I laughed, and turned my back on the boy. I pushed open the door to Lydia's room, and fought back the slim bit of disappointment in my heart when I saw there was no change in the girl.

I lowered myself into the hard chair by her bed carefully. The gash from the attack had healed up, but there were still healing bruises that seemed intent on giving me as much pain as they could before leaving my skin for good.

"Hey, Lyd..." I began quietly,"Happy New Year. I bet it's not the best to start out the New Year unconscious. I bet you'd have thrown a huge party, and we'd still be dancing at this hour. Danny said he was throwing one in your honour and invited us all, but... without you, it doesn't feel right."

Reaching forward, I gently took her hand,"I don't know if you can hear me. The doctors say it's not the same as a coma, so you probably can hear me. I really want you to wake up, Lyd. We all do. School starts up again on Monday, who else am I gonna steal notes from?" I tried to joke, and then glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Woah, it's already Sunday. Apparently that didn't register until now," I laughed lightly, and then grimaced. "Ah, school is in a day. It's gonna be weird without you there, so... wake up. No? Okay. I'm rambling now, aren't I? Says you, that's no different to all the other times I've been here."

With that, I trailed off, distractedly looking around the room. The silence settled around me like a blanket, and I gently let go of Lydia's hand so that I could sit back in the seat. I tucked my legs up beneath me, resting my elbow on the handle and my head on my hand. Before I settled myself, however, I grabbed a book that Mrs. Martin had left on the bedside table.

Careful not to jostle her bookmark and lose where she was, I began to read, quickly losing track of time.

I fell asleep sometime after Chapter Three.

* * *

"Olivia?" Someone was calling early the next morning. I groaned, and shielded my face from the sun peaking through the curtain by pulling the hoodie that had been draped over me up and over my face.

The scent of Stiles met my nose, and I realized he must have covered me sometime during the night. A smile rose to my lips, but it was wiped away by shock when a huff came from the other person in the room.

"Olivia!"

I jumped up, stumbling less than gracefully and awkwardly getting my hands tangled in Stiles's hoodie.

"Lydia!"

The strawberry blonde arched an eyebrow, her lips pursed and her arms folded, though I could see that there was a hint of amusement sparkling in her green eyes. The previously unconscious girl was sitting up, wide awake.

"You're awake!"

"Yes, clearly. I was going to call a nurse, but I can't reach the button." To prove her point, Lydia reached out, and then quickly winced.

"Okay, okay!" I stopped her, gently pulling her arm back,"I got it."

I carefully set Stiles's hoodie down on the chair, and ran out into the now very busy hospital hallway. I spotted Melissa behind the desk, and ran up.

"She's awake!"

That was all I had to say before a team of medical personnel were swarming Lydia's room. Before the door shut completely, Melissa popped her head around it.

"Stiles is in your uncle's office." She gave me a smile,"I'll let you tell him."

"He didn't go home?"

The curly haired woman simply shook her head before disappearing inside.

Frowning, I took out my phone. It was just after eleven. Deciding to let Stiles sleep for a bit, I made a few phone calls. The first was to the Martin household. Unfortunately, it was Mr. Martin who picked up. The man was staying until Lydia was better, but from what Lydia had told me about him, and from what I myself had experienced while talking to him, I definitely was not a fan. I exchanged a few necessary words, and then thankfully hung up.

Allison was called next, and then Scott, and the two promised to be down as soon as possible. I then attempted to call Jackson. Much like Derek, the boy had been non-existent in our lives. I hadn't even seen him around town at all. As expected, he never answered, so I left him a brief message.

Finally, I called my mother. When she picked up, I was bracing myself to be yelled at. After all, not only had I snuck out, but I had stayed out all night without even telling them where I was going. Instead, however, my mother seemed to be in a great mood.

"Hey, mom."

"Hey honey, what's up?"

I paused, thoroughly confused,"Uh, Lydia's awake."

"Olivia, that's wonderful! How is she?"

"She seems to be fine. They're doing tests now, I'd imagine."

"When I woke up and you weren't in bed, I was so worried." Mom said,"But Carter said you had left for the hospital early. He complained that you had woken him up from his food coma."

I laughed along with my mother,"Speaking of, can you put him on the phone?"

"Sure. Carter!" I heard her call, and soon enough, Carter's voice met my ear.

"Yo baby sis. Lydia's awake then?"

"I owe you."

"Fast food and we'll call it even," Carter chuckled in a hushed whisper, and I grinned.

"Deal. Tell mom I don't know when I'll be home."

"Will do!"

After that, I hung up and pocketed my phone. I headed towards Conrad's office, and opened the door quietly. Stiles was laying on the couch, one leg dangling off the side, and his head hanging over the arm of the couch. I winced, doubting the position was comfortable. I felt terrible about waking him up, but the news was positive, and he wouldn't mind.

Standing back, I observed him and contemplated the best way to wake him up. The urge to jump at him and yell was near overwhelming, but I figured it was too mean. I'd save that for another time.

So, I decided to go for an awakening that was gentle. I crept over to him, and bent down so that his face was close enough to mine. I ran my hands through his hair, scratching gently against his scalp and trying not to laugh when he gave a sound that could only be described as a purr.

"Stiles," I sang. "Wakey, wakey time."

"No." The boy groaned, his eyebrows tugging downward on his forehead.

"Stiles."

"Five more minutes..."

"I'd let you if I could, but I have good news."

Slowly, the boy opened his honey brown eyes, and I half expected him to jump when he saw me there. Instead, he smiled warmly, stretching out his limbs before sitting up.

I let him fix his clothes and stretch before I stood.

"Lydia's awake."

Stiles whirled around,"She is?!"

"Yep," I smiled,"Woke up this morning."

"How is she?"

"Sassy." I replied, my smile growing along with his,"They're doing tests on her now, I think. I've already called everyone, so... I think we're good."

Stiles pumped his fist in the air, before throwing it over my shoulder and tugging me into a hug.

I laughed, and then grew more serious,"I don't think she's... I mean, she didn't show any signs, but... I was only able to talk to her for like, five seconds."

The smile fell from the youngest Stilinski's face, and I felt guilty for shattering his five minutes of happy.

"Right," He sighed, running a hand over his head,"We still have that to deal with. You said you called everyone? Did you call -"

"Scott? Yeah. Right after I called Allison. They're on the way."

"We're already here." Scott's voice announced from the doorway. Allison hurried past him and pulled me into a hug,"How is she? Was she okay?"

I answered Allison with the same words that I gave to Stiles, and the four of us returned to the hallway outside. Melissa greeted us with a smile, and answered the question that was on the tip of each of our tongues.

"Lydia is fine," Melissa beamed, and we all blew out a relieved breath. "Everything is looking good, she's healing normally, she has an appetite... it's all looking very positive. She still has a few hours of tests ahead of her though." There was a moment of silence, and then Melissa grinned,"That's my way of telling you kids to get out of here for a while. You won't be allowed into see her for hours. Go, have fun. Be teenagers."

With that, Melissa turned on her heel and walked away. After a short discussion, the four of us agreed to split up. Stiles and Scott would head to Eddie's diner, and pick up lunch, whilst Allison and I went to Lydia's and picked up some essentials for her. Then we would meet at the Beacon Hills preserve. It was a creepy place to be after dark, but during the day it was actually quite pretty.

Allison and I split from the boys, and drove in my car to Lydia's as her father had dropped her off. We went through Lydia's room and bathroom, gathering up clothes, toiletries, and the like. We weren't sure how long she would be in the hospital for, so we decided to leave her laptop where it was, but grab her phone and her charger from the desk. Just before we left, I grabbed her makeup bag, and separated the heap that would put my own makeup stash to shame. I picked out the necessary items, and put them in a smaller, separate makeup bag.

We set Lydia's duffel bag full of belongings into the trunk of my car, and then drove to the preserve, blasting music all the way. We talked a little bit, with Allison telling me that more and more Argent hunters and family friends were coming in for the funeral. They all knew what had really happened, though I was surprised to learn that Chris had told them nothing of our involvement. He had simply told them that Peter Hale had killed Kate, and he was dead.

Scott, Stiles and I were all safe. I figured it was for Allison's sake more than ours.

Stiles and Scott were already there, and I parked just behind the powder blue jeep. They had thought to bring a blanket so that we wouldn't have to sit on the mulch. The four of us sat down, and began to eat in silence, each wondering how we could break the silence that had fallen over us.

"So..." It was Scott who decided to try,"I almost got hit by a car last night."

The laughter that followed was definitely the perfect way to break any silence.

* * *

We stayed out for a few hours, talking and messing around like normal teenagers. At around five, when it began to get dark, we called Melissa. She told us that Lydia would be allowed visitors around eight, which meant we had another few hours to kill.

We quickly decided to go and see a movie. Despite knowing him since September, I was still amazed at how much food he could pack away.

"We just had lunch a few hours ago." I gaped as he waddled over, some of the popcorn spilling over the edge of the bucket.

"I am a growing boy!" Stiles exclaimed back, awkwardly shoving a few candy bars and other sugary snacks into my arms.

"Allison and Scott decided to get the couple's combo so they could share a large, and I figured," A blush rose to his cheeks," I figured we could do the same. For practicality."

"Of course." I nodded, fighting the blush that threatened to rise to my own face. I glanced over, and smiled as Allison leaned in and gave Scott a sweet kiss. Technically, they weren't supposed to be together at all, but there was no one we recognized amongst the medium sized crowd at the theater anyway, except for a small group of people from school who stopped to talk to us. Other than that, the coast was clear. They were safe to bask in their glory.

The movie we had chosen wasn't anything special. It was a lighthearted comedy, and I was a little bit excited to see it. Stiles and Scott nearly bowled Allison and I over in their attempts to reach the back seats of the screening room.

"Real men let the ladies sit first!" Allison called after them.

Scott and Stiles stopped mid way up the steps, and then burst out laughing.

"You snooze you lose, Argent!" Stiles shot over his shoulder, and the two boys plopped down beside each other. Allison rolled her eyes and laughed. She shoved Stiles's legs down off the back of the chair in front of him, and made her way to Scott's other side, leaving me the aisle seat.

I sat down, and began sorting the assortment of candy that Stiles had selected for us.

"How are you even gonna eat half of this?" I asked in awe. Stiles tossed me a wink, and patted his stomach,"Don't underestimate the Stilinski stomach, babe."

A snort escaped me, and I tore open a bag of chocolate Whoppers, popping one in my mouth,"Whatever you say, babe."

I sat forward, motioning my hand towards the popcorn,"You want to put the Whoppers in with the popcorn?"

As I waited for a reply, I stole a few pieces of salted popcorn.

"Put the chocolate in it?" Allison asked, leaning forward to look at us. I grinned and nodded excitedly,"The chocolate melts a bit and it's so good."

"Dude," Scott laughed, putting his hand in the air for a high five,"That's what Stiles and I do every time!"

Stiles held the popcorn bucket out for me as I emptied the Whoppers into it, a laugh resembling a witch's cackle escaping my lips, causing my friends to laugh.

"That makes you so happy, doesn't it?" Stiles commented, sliding back in his seat as the lights went down and the trailers began to play.

"It makes my soul feel complete." I remarked, earning another chuckle before everyone in the room went quiet, and sat back to enjoy the movie.

* * *

Lydia looked more relieved than she ever had been when we arrived. I trailed in behind, childishly holding onto a handful of balloons I had demanded to buy.

"It's a girl?" Lydia asked, with a small laugh. I pouted up at the decorative pink balloon.

"They didn't have a great selection," I shrugged. "Plus, I figured it would give your dad a heart attack upon first glance, and of course, I had to buy it then."

Lydia gave me a wickedly sly smirk,"Put it right next to my bed."

Clapping my hands excitedly, I rushed forward and placed the balloons around her bed. We all settled in the room, with Allison and I claiming the end of the bed whilst the boys chose the chairs.

"So, how do you feel?" Allison asked, earning a shrug from Lydia.

"Just tired. I'm a little sore, but the medication helps."

"So you don't feel... different?" Scott questioned hesitantly.

"Different how?" Lydia frowned.

"Like... different. Can you see better, smell better -" Scott began.

"Do you feel the need to maim?" Stiles interrupted, and I stretched my leg out to kick him in the knee.

"Yeah, I do." Lydia answered, and we all froze. The girl rolled her eyes,"The doctors say they won't let me home tomorrow. I mean, why not? I'm perfectly fine! My manicure is chipped, and there are tangles to end all tangles in my hair, but I'm fine!"

We all relaxed, and Allison reached over to squeeze Lydia's hand,"They just want you to rest."

"I can rest! In my own bed! In my own home!"

"I can solve that one." I grinned, leaning back on the bed,"Wait until midnight, and I'll bust you out. They'll never catch us alive."

With a disapproving look that only a mother could manage, Allison swatted me on the stomach,"No!"

"Rude!" I laughed, turning onto my side and holding my stomach.

"We can use my jeep as the getaway car." Stiles supplied and held up his keys. Shooting up, I pointed a finger in his direction,"Yes!"

Scott grabbed Stiles's keys from the boy, shoving them into his pocket,"No!"

"God mom and dad, you don't let us do anything!" Lydia joked, laughing freely as Scott and Allison both rolled their eyes. A phone beeped somewhere in the room, and Allison clambered off the bed, rummaging through her bag for her phone.

"It's mom," She began. "She wants to know if I have a spare key, because she and dad... are going out. Which means, empty house..."

Scott shot up, and the two of them shared a grin. I gagged dramatically,"You two are like rabbits."

"Go," Lydia laughed, waving them off.

"Have fun!" Stiles called after the two teens, and I yelped, grabbing an extra pillow and wrapping it around my ears.

"Ew, Stiles!"

"I didn't mean it like that!" The boy laughed, and then smirked,"Although..."

"Bold!" I exclaimed, whacking him with the same pillow I had used to cover my ears.

"Oh, you love it." Stiles teased, and I rolled my eyes, giving him another soft hit as redness crept up the back of my neck. I caught Lydia's eye, and she looked between the two of us with narrowed eyes.

Just when it looked like she was going to say something, the door to her room opened.

"Knock, knock," Came Mr. Martin's voice, and Stiles and I both caught Lydia rolling her eyes.

"Hey, Dad."

"How is my little... girl?" Mr. Martin trailed off, catching sight of the balloon beside her bed. I instantly began to laugh, and Lydia allowed a smile.

"Just Olivia's sense of humor."

"But it is a girl!" I exclaimed, throwing out my arms,"Congrats, Mr. Martin. Spoiler alert, you name her Lydia."

As Mr. Martin laid out all the generic questions (how are you?, do you need anything?, can you stop rolling your eyes now?) Stiles was called out by Melissa for a moment, who was wondering where Scott went. I made a move to follow, figuring that it was respectful to let father and daughter have a moment after the ordeal, but Lydia quickly clamped down on my hand, and sent me a warning look.

I wasn't allowed to leave.

After a while, Lydia quickly began to come up with ways to make her father leave, though none made him get the hint. I got up, and began to pace the room, when I stopped in front of the bathroom door. I pointed towards it, and Lydia nodded quickly.

"So, Lydia... you've been couped up in a bed for over a week. If you want a shower, there are towels in the bathroom." I informed, allowing Lydia the chance to nod quickly.

"I think I might take one now." Lydia nodded, throwing the blankets off her body and allowing her feet to touch the cold linoleum floor.

"You want help getting in the shower?" Mr. Martin asked, and I sealed my lips. The next hint thrown his way would be a firm 'get out' from me, though Lydia apparently had a response covered.

"Maybe if I was four." She glared, walking towards me and the bathroom,"And still taking bubble baths."

Mr. Martin looked downright berated as he placed his hands on his hips and heaved a sigh,"Right, I'll just wait outside then. Where it's slightly less sarcastic."

"So you're going out into a hallway where Stiles Stilinski currently is?" I snorted, patting him on the arm as he passed,"Good luck with that."

As the door shut, I looked to Lydia with a wry grin,"Do you want help getting in the shower?"

"Yes, please." Lydia winced, rubbing at her side. I directed her to sit on the edge of the bed before entering the bathroom, grabbing her duffel on the way.

I located the towels, and set one on the hook beside the shower. I then went through her bag, pulling out the essentials, and choosing soft track suit pants that Allison had picked out, and a loose t-shirt. I folded them in a neat pile, and set them atop the closed toilet lid.

I grabbed some generic brand of shampoo and conditioner, as well as some sweetly-scented shower gel, and set them along the edge of the bath at a comfortable height so that Lydia wouldn't have to bend too much.

"I'll let you switch it on, and figure out the heat settings. I'll be right outside, okay? So just call if you need anything."

"Thanks, mommy." Lydia joked, but squeezed my hand before entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

I emerged from her hospital bedroom, content that my friend was alright for the time being.

Mr. Martin was stood in the hallway, his hands still on his hips as he spoke to Melissa. I joined the two, receiving a smile from the woman as I followed their line of sight, and smiled.

"Has he been asleep long?" I asked, nodding towards Stiles. Laid out across nearly three seats, I again marveled at how he could find comfort in such odd positions. He easily flipped onto his stomach as we watched him.

The boy smiled lazily in his sleep, puckering his lips and giggling to himself. I attempted to stifle a giggle,"I wonder what he's dreaming about."

"Or who?" Mr. Martin corrected, causing my jaw to go slack, and another laugh to bubble its way to the surface.

"He's a teenage boy, I don't wanna know!" Melissa held up her hands, shaking her head quickly. A staff member passing by stopped to empty the trashcan near Stiles's head, and three of us watched in amused horror as Stiles made another kissy face, and muttered,"You're dirty."

The laughter I was trying to keep down refused to be hidden anymore, and it all came pouring out, making me double over with a case of the giggles.

Stiles shot up, my bark of laughter providing a rude awakening as he jumped, a blush rising to his cheeks when he saw us.

"Sounded like you were having a terrible dream, Stiles," I teased, wiping tears from my eyes.

"I don't want to know!" Melissa repeated, walking away. Mr. Martin followed her, and I moved towards Stiles, a childish grin on my face.

"Shut up." Stiles grumbled, nudging me playfully in the side,"Why aren't you in with Lydia?"

"She's taking a shower." I answered, and Stiles nodded.

"You want anything from the vending machine?" Stiles asked, and my eyes widened.

"You're getting more candy?"

"Duh!" Laughed Stiles,"Dad's not here, so there's no one here to stop me. Do you want to join me on my sugar rush?"

"I think I'll pass. One of us has to be responsible about our candy intake."

"More for me!" Stiles exclaimed, skipping down off the hall, causing me to laugh. That boy had more energy than Lucy.

When nearly fifteen minutes passed, I grew concerned. When twenty had passed, I grew suspicious. Either Stiles had gotten distracted, or he was up to something.

I stood up, and headed off down the same direction Stiles had disappeared. Just as I reached the corner, a huge crash made me jump halfway out of my skin. I sped around the corner, my mouth falling open in a gasp as I took in the scene.

Stiles stood there, his hands extended in front of him as he stared at the fallen vending machine. Broken bits of glass lay around the floor, and before I could speak, Stiles turned on his heel.

He paused for a second when he realized I had joined him, but he shook it off, and took my hand. Wrenching me down the hallway after him, we made it back to the nurse's station before sharing a glance, and dissolving into uncontrollable laughter.

"Did you just vandalize the hospital?" I whispered, leaning in close so that no one could hear.

"Not on purpose!" Stiles chuckled, lowering his voice to match mine,"I just wanted some candy. Oops?"

His innocent shrug and matching smile made me grin. I shook my head,"What are we going to do with you, Stiles Stilinski?"

Stiles opened his mouth, a reply on the tip of his tongue when suddenly, a scream pierced the air.

My heart leapt into my throat, stopping and speeding up all at once,"Was that...?"

"Lydia!" Stiles yelled, his voice so loud that it drowned out the startled chatter of the hospital hallway. With my hand still in his, Stiles pulled me quickly towards our friend's hospital room. We burst inside, and went straight for the bathroom. As Stiles threw the door open, he nearly slipped on the puddle of water on the tiles, and I let go of his hand, placing my own two on his waist to keep him upright.

Melissa and Mr. Martin were not far behind.

"What the hell was that?" Melissa was calling as the two of them joined us in the bathroom. Neither of answered. Neither of us could answer.

Despite the scream that had come from the room only a few seconds before, the girl that it had emitted from was nowhere to be found. Aside from the running water, there was no other sound in the room.

Lydia was gone.

As Melissa reached in to shut off the water, I looked to Stiles, my eyebrows drawing down in concern. My eyes roamed around the room, looking for any sign of... anything. I caught sight of Stiles's hand extending to find mine again, but I ignored it, moving towards the open window.

The back of the parking lot was visible, the moon bright in the sky. In the distance, I could see the silhouette of the trees that belonged to the woods.

For a reason that escaped me, I closed my eyes, and could have sworn I heard an echo of a scream at the back of my mind.

Brown eyes snapped open again, and I placed my hand against the edge of the open window.

"Lydia?"

* * *

_Happy 2015 everyone! x  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Hazy**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

* * *

The hospital was chaos. Security littered the grounds, speaking quickly to each other and using codes that my brain was too muddled to make sense of.

I could see the shadow of Stiles as he paced up and down the adjacent hallway, talking quietly on his phone to Scott, and explaining the situation to him. I knew Scott would let Allison know, and nervously twisted my own phone in my hands, not knowing what to do with myself.

Mrs. Martin was on her way, and with nothing else to do, I unlocked my phone and began to type a text message. I kept it short, explaining that Lydia was missing, and asking the two recipients to please keep an eye out. I then chose those recipients; Derek and Jackson.

I glanced up to see Melissa looking at me. She was standing with Mr. Martin, both of them talking to Sheriff Stilinski about what had happened. Scott's mother gave me a warm smile, and nodded me towards her. I stood, folding my arms and giving her a tired smile as she patted my back.

"Naked?" The Sheriff was asking, his tone holding the same disbelief that his face held,"As in nude?"

Melissa rolled her eyes at the man,"I'm pretty sure they mean the same thing, but, yes, as far as we know, she left here clothing optional."

I shivered at the thought, my eyebrows drawing down, though I remained silent.

"All right, you checked the whole hospital, right?" The Sheriff asked next, and earned a nod from Scott's mother.

"Every last corner."

"Nothing suspicious?"

"Nothing," shrugged Melissa. "She just took off."

The Sheriff turned his gaze on me, his eyes soft but his voice firm,"She didn't mention anything to you?"

I couldn't help but feel a spark of irritation ignite inside me. Did the Sheriff _really_ think, if this had been planned by my missing best friend, that I would have let her go through with it?

"Of course not!" I exclaimed,"What would she say? _'Hey, Olivia, I'm gonna go out in the freezing cold for a late night stroll, in the nude, when I'm injured. Oh, and I'm gonna scream my lungs out first just to frighten the hell out of everyone in a fifty mile radius_' -" I broke off, shaking my head, and running a hand through my hair. A blush of shame exploded across my face. "Sorry, that was rude."

"No, no," The Sheriff shook his head, patting me a bit hesitantly on the arm - as though he expected me to bite it off. I didn't. "You're on edge. Of course you wouldn't have known anything about this."

"She_ just_ woke up, and it's way too cold for her to be out there." I breathed, pain beginning to work its way around my head behind my eyes, caused by the tension and anxiety. As I moved my hand up to rub at my sore eyes, Melissa wrapped her arm around my shoulder, tugging me close to her side. I welcomed the comfort easily. The Sheriff nodded, pressing the button on the side of his two-way radio.

"All right, let's get an APB out on a 16–year–old redhead." He glanced back at us,"Any other descriptors?"

I opened my mouth to reply, when suddenly Stiles was beside us,"5'3", green eyes, fair–skinned, and her hair is actually strawberry blonde."

I couldn't help the soft chuckle that left me as the Sheriff eyed his son,"Is that right?"

Stiles nodded slowly,"Yeah."

"Right," The Sheriff balled up the fabric of his son's jacket, and hauled him to the side,"Come here. What the hell are you still doing here?"

Despite them stepping away from us, we could still hear every word in the small but cramped hallway. In front of us, officers were examining the fallen vending machine. I doubted Stiles had any plans of admitting that he had been the one to topple it over.

"Um, providing moral support?" Stiles had answered, earning narrowed eyes from his dad.

"Uh–huh. How 'bout you provide your ass back home, where you should be." The Sheriff's tone left no room for debate. He glanced back at me,"And take Olivia home, she doesn't look ... well."

I frowned at this, glancing at Melissa who gave me a soft smile and another squeeze. Stiles looked back at me, before nodding and taking a step towards me,"Okay, I can do that too."

As I disentangled myself from Melissa, and moved towards Stiles, the Sheriff stopped us. A warm smile was tossed our way, and his kind nature shone through in his gentle eyes.

"We're gonna find her, so don't worry."

Giving the man a small smile of my own, I stepped passed Stiles, and awkwardly stopped at the fallen vending machine. I felt Stiles come up behind me, and with a quick nudge, we skirted by it quickly, and turned the corner.

"Scott is out at the Jeep, waiting for us." Stiles informed as we made our way out of the hospital. He reached around to his back, lifting up his jacket and shirt and pulling the hidden item of clothing out from underneath,"We're gonna try find her using this."

I delicately took the neatly folded hospital gown from him, inspecting the blood stain on the waist. The scent. I hadn't even thought of doing anything like this, and commended Stiles silently on the idea.

"Should I leave my car here?" I asked, and Stiles nodded.

"I can drop you back to collect it -"

"No, it's fine." I shrugged, going over to make sure my car was locked up for the night. "I can pick it up in the morning, before school."

When we reached the Jeep, Scott was sitting in the passenger seat, and looked relieved to see us approaching. I climbed into the backseat, the movement causing my head to pound. I leaned forward, massaging my temples. A migraine was the _last_ thing I needed at that moment.

"This is the one she was just wearing?" Scott asked, looking at the gown I had handed him. I raised my eyes, and nodded. The boy's eyes moved in between Stiles and I, promising us,"I'm not gonna let anyone hurt her. Not again."

I smiled at him as best I could, whereas Stiles just waved his hands.

"All right, just shove the thing in your face and let's find her." As the boy revved the engine, and switched on the headlights, he jumped in his seat,"Oh! Wow!"

I spared a glimpse towards the front of the Jeep, relieved to see that it was only Allison. She hurried to Scott's side of the car, as he rolled down the window.

"What are you doing here? Someone's gonna see us." He said, and I reflexively glanced around for any known hunters. If they knew about this, they wouldn't waste much time in joining the hunt for Lydia. Though their definitions of 'hunt' would be drastically different than ours.

"I don't care. She is our best friend, and we need to find her before they do."

"I can find her before the cops can." Scott promised, though we all realized quickly that Allison wasn't talking about the cops.

"How about before my father does?" The brunette challenged, and I groaned out loud. So they _did_ already know.

Stiles leaned over towards the window, his eyebrows in his hairline,"He _knows_?"

"Yeah." Allison confirmed,"I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in two SUVs."

"Uh oh," I mumbled, already sliding to the side to make room for Allison in the back.

"Search party." Scott stated, unbuckling himself.

"It's more like a hunting party." I heard Allison say, and Scott swung open the door.

"Get in."

As Allison climbed over her boyfriend and landed beside me, I wrapped my arms around the girl tightly. As I pulled back, Allison took my hand and clutched it in her lap. Stiles advised all of us to buckle up, and pretty soon, we were on the road.

* * *

We had been driving for what felt like a lifetime. Scott had stuck his head out the window, searching the air for Lydia's scent, and had the situation not been so dire, and had my head not felt as though someone had opened it up and let a jackhammer loose inside, I would have made a joke. But I didn't.

The only people talking were Stiles, who was full of questions, and Allison, who wasn't so full of answers. Occasionally Scott would call out a direction.

"All right, but if she's turning, would they actually kill her?" Inquired Stiles.

"I don't know." Allison sighed,"They won't tell me anything. Okay, all they say is, '_We'll talk after Kate's funeral, when the others get here_'."

"Others?" Stiles echoed, and I moaned, letting my head roll so that it leaned on the window. The vibrations of the car jostled my head, making the pain worse, so I rolled my neck in the opposite direction.

"Don't tell me there are _more_ hunters on the way." I complained.

"I don't know, they won't tell me that yet." Allison answered patiently.

Huffing, Stiles clenched his jaw,"Okay, your family's got some_ serious_ communication issues to work on. Scott, are we going the right way?"

Scott pulled his head back into the car,"Take the next right!"

As the car swerved, a small breathy squeak left my lips. Scott whipped his head around to look at me, as did Allison, and I even caught the glance that Stiles sent through his rear view mirror. Concern was equally reflected in their eyes, and I opened my mouth to tell them I was fine before shaking my head, and remaining silent.

"You okay?" Allison asked, reaching out to touch my forehead.

"Headache." I replied, my stomach giving a lurch as we took another hard turn. I tried to focus on something to stop my stomach from turning, and vaguely noted that we were nearing the graveyard. However, we bypassed the turn towards it with another skid around a corner.

"Sorry," Stiles sheepishly apologized. He tapped his finger along the rim of the steering wheel as we were forced to stop at a red light. I had no doubt that, had there been not been a car in front of us, Stiles would have easily ran it.

"You know, you should try to get some rest." The boy suggested.

"No," I shook my head, sitting up straighter. "I'm not resting when Lydia's missing."

"We're probably gonna be driving for a while," Stiles argued. "We'll wake you up."

"But -" I began to protest. Scott, who had leaned out the window again, turned to me,"Olivia, you don't look well."

Remembering that the Sheriff had said the same thing, I pouted,"It's just a headache."

"Liv," Allison tried next. "Scott and Stiles are right. We don't know how long we'll be driving for, and what state Lydia will be in when we find her. Get some rest. If something happens, you'll be the first to know."

A part of me wanted to argue, but a bigger part was too tired. My head felt like it was on fire, and my eyes desperately ached to close. An oncoming car flashed its lights at us as we drove by, and I groaned, clamping my eyes closed. Conceding defeat, I rested my arm along the window, and curled my legs up beneath me. I peeked out through one eye at Allison.

"Wake me."

The girl nodded, and patted my knee before turning away, and I closed my eyes again.

* * *

_When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at the night sky. Something large was obscuring my view, and I could feel a mixture of hard and soft dirt under my fingertips._

_Someone was breathing heavily, the sound panicked and quick. I wasn't sure if it was me, or someone else, as I couldn't look around. I could only stare straight up._

_Something flashed above me, filling the gaps that allowed the light of the moon in with darkness. I couldn't see anything at all now, and the breathing was becoming heavier._

_I heard the sound of growling coming from outside, and fought to remain silent. There was something vicious about the growl, causing my heart to pound in my chest. It definitely wasn't friendly._

_There was pain in my eye, a dull sensation that caused mild irritation. I reached up to feel the skin around my eye, and felt that it was bruised. I winced and pulled away, moving slightly in my makeshift grave. That's what it felt like anyway, and considering the dirt, I assumed that that was what it really was. A grave._

_My arm twinged as I moved it, and I cupped it with my hand, trying to alleviate the pain._

_I blinked a few times, my eyes adjusting to the darkness when suddenly, the growling stopped. There was a sound of running, and then the heavy object was being lifted. The sudden influx of light caused me to shy away, though when the stars cleared, I managed to see the person who had relieved me from the infinite darkness._

_Derek._

_There was a wry smile on his face, one that seemed oddly carefree considering the circumstances. He extended his hand to me, and spoke, though it was too fuzzy for me to make out._

_I stretched my hand out, noting that it seemed much bigger, and took Derek's hand with only a bit of hesitation. My desire to leave this grave outweighed everything else._

_Just as Derek pulled me out, everything shifted. It seemed as though everything was being dragged away and turned around as I was pulled back into consciousness._

I shot up so fast in the back of the Jeep that I startled Stiles, and he swerved on the road. He made quick work of righting the Jeep again, before glancing back at me.

"Sorry," I grimaced, rubbing my eyes. "How long was I out?"

"Like, five minutes." Stiles replied,"How's your headache?"

I rubbed my eyes, relieved to find that the pain had dwindled down into a soft throbbing. The nausea that had taken hold of my stomach was gone.

"Better."

"Did you have a bad dream?" Allison asked me,"You shot up pretty fast."

"I don't know. Maybe?" I shook my head, almost as though the action would cause the jumbled up images in my head to align themselves. "I was - I was looking up, and... I could see bits of the sky, but, there was something _big_ blocking my view. My eye hurt, and my arm, and I was panicking. It was like I was stuck, I couldn't get out of where I was. It was like I was caged in. Pretty sure it was a grave."

"Do you always have dreams like that?" Stiles asked, raising a concerned eyebrow.

"Sometimes," I shrugged,"Dreams are often the result of your subconscious referencing your life, so that probably explains why it sounded like there was a wolf near."

"Sorry," Scott chuckled sheepishly, and I gave him a smile.

"It's okay. Most of the time they're friendly... sometimes not so."

Another image hit me, and I jumped up,"Oh! And, Derek was there!"

I caught Stiles rolling his eyes, and rolled my own,"He was standing over the hole I was stuck in. He said something, but I couldn't hear it. It was all... jumbled."

"Well, that's a coincidence," Scott mumbled. "Because I'm pretty sure the scent is leading us to the Hale house."

* * *

I drew my arms around my body as we walked up the slope that lead towards the Hale house. None of us had been back since the night Peter and Kate had died, and neither of us had ever really wanted to return.

I could vividly picture the events of the night as we approached. Where Kate had held a gun to Scott, where Derek had killed Peter. It was like watching it all play out again in my head, and I shivered at the thought.

"She came here?" Stiles double-checked,"You sure?"

Scott shrugged,"Yeah, this is where the scent leads."

"All right, but has Lydia ever been here?" Stiles questioned next.

"Not with me." Allison shook my head, and I agreed.

"Same. I've only ever been here alone, or with you guys, so..." I trailed off, staring at the mangled house.

"Maybe she came here on instinct, like she was looking for Derek." Suggested Allison, causing us all to become slightly unsettled.

"You mean, looking for an Alpha." Scott added, and I bit my lip, taking another step closer to the house.

"Wolves need a pack, right?" Allison spoke.

"Not all of them." Scott replied.

"But would she have been drawn to an Alpha? Is it an instinct to be part of a pack?"

"Yeah, we're – we're stronger in packs."

Allison nodded at her boyfriend,"Like strength in numbers."

"No, like – like, literally stronger, faster, better in every way." The boy elaborated.

I glanced over my shoulder at him,"So werewolves have symbiotic relationships then?" Scott paused, and I explained,"You benefit from being with each other."

"Pretty much, yeah." He nodded.

"That the same for an Alpha?" Allison questioned next.

"Yeah, it'll make Derek stronger too."

"I assume that was why Peter was so hellbent on having a pack. It would have made him stronger," I said, kicking at a small pile of leaves. "I mean, I doubt it was for the family aspect. I don't think he was particularly jonesing to sit around a campfire and sing Kumbaya."

That brought a smile to Scott's face, and I turned to look at Stiles, who had remained quiet for longer than usual. He was bent down near a tree, carefully sifting through the leaves. I walked towards him, and bent down beside him.

"Hey, look at this." He said,"You see this? I think it's a tripwire."

Allison came to kneel at his other side, as I began searching for some kind of way to disable the thin, clear strip of wire that had been hidden underneath the mulch. As I searched, I caught sight of Stiles moving in my peripheral. I turned to stop him from touching it, only to hear shuffling and stumbling behind me.

I stood up, clamping my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing at the sight. Scott, dangling upside down from a tree, had been caught around the ankle, and both Stiles and Allison were none the wiser. He rolled his eyes.

"Stiles?"

Attention caught, Stiles turned,"Yeah, buddy? Oh."

As both he and Allison stood, I could no longer suppress my giggle. This, in turn, caused Allison to laugh too.

"Next time you see a tripwire," Scott huffed. "_Don't_ trip it."

Stiles cracked a smile,"Yeah, noted."

I, still laughing, reached into my pocket and took out my phone. Aiming it towards him, I grinned,"Smile for the camera."

Scott flipped me off with a huge grin, and I caught a picture,"Perfect!"

"You weren't _actually_ supposed to take it!" Scott exclaimed, though he couldn't help but laugh as I victoriously waved the phone in front of him.

The three of us then headed over to help the unfortunate boy down, only for him to hold out his hand, stopping us. He tilted his head to the side, his brows pulling downward.

"Wait," He spoke, glancing back at us. "Someone's coming."

There was a pause before Scott was pointing towards the cover of the trees,"Hide, go!"

I wasn't sure which one of us moved first. Stiles, maybe, as he reached out for myself and Allison. I glanced up towards the house. We still weren't sure whether or not Lydia was inside, and I paused. Scott was whispering for me to go, and I made a decision. If Lydia was inside, the first person she was going to see was a friend, and not whoever was coming our way.

I covered the distance between Scott and the Hale house quickly and quietly, managing to duck behind the edge of the porch just as the newcomers emerged from the trees.

Chris Argent.

And, by the looks of it, two armed men. Two armed hunters.

I watched Chris bend down to talk to Scott, and heard my friend make light comments in regards to the tripwire. I risked a glance over to where Allison and Stiles had disappeared too, and saw both of them motioning for me to stay where I was.

Rolling my eyes, I turned away from them and silently skirted the side of the house. The two hunters were walking around, scouting out the place for ... well, anyone, I guessed.

I had decided to see if there was a back entrance to the house, but as I edged around the corner, I heard footsteps. One of the hunters, a man I had never seen before, appeared, and I quickly jumped back.

The heel of my shoe caught on a fallen branch, and snapped it. The noise must have alerted the man to my presence, as the footsteps picked up again, heading in my direction.

I glanced around for somewhere to hide, and realized my only hope of cover was the window slightly above me. The glass had been broken out, and I gripped the edge of the ledge, hurriedly climbing through it, and landing with a soft thud on the wooden floor of the Hale house's first floor.

I flattened my body against the wall as the beam from a flashlight soaked into the room, bouncing off the walls. A name was called, one I couldn't make out over the sound of my own heartbeat, and a gruff voice answered.

"Thought I heard somethin'," The unfamiliar hunter called. "Must have been a damn squirrel or somethin'."

The flashlight disappeared, and I waited until the footsteps disappeared completely until I let out the breath I had been holding.

"Yeah, that's me," I whispered, pulling myself up and wiping the dust and dirt off my jeans. "An innocent little squirrel."

Maneuvering myself around the darkness of the house was easier than expected. The eeriness of the house settled around me, making me jump at every sound. Knowing that so many people had died here, suffering until the very end, made me uncomfortable. I didn't hold much belief in ghosts, but hey, werewolves existed, didn't they? It wasn't so hard to believe that maybe, just maybe, these walls contained the lost souls of the Hale family.

It felt very much as though I was being watched, but I pushed it away. It was just a feeling. I could deal with that. Though, I still avoided the living room at all costs, not wanting to see the dried blood on the floor, leftover from when Peter savagely tore out Kate's throat. I would have almost preferred a ghost over seeing that crime scene.

With a grimace, I reached up and massaged my own throat. Yes, a ghost would have definitely been better.

"Lydia?" I called out in a quick mutter. "You in here?"

As expected, only silence greeted me. Approaching the staircase, I tested the sturdiness of the railing. I had never ventured to the second floor before, but I wanted to cover as much ground as I could. I held my breath as I tested the first step, and the second, waiting for a creak that thankfully never came.

I tip-toed the rest of the way up, not spending too much time. Every closed door was opened, with a soft 'Lydia' being called into every room. Every door was re-closed with a sigh.

The last door led me to a study of sorts, and as expected, Lydia was nowhere to be found. I sighed, turning on my heel to leave, when something caught my eye. A picture.

I picked it up off the floor, brushing my fingertips along the singed edges. In it, a younger Derek was actually smiling. I could see Peter behind him, the sly grin that had always creeped me out on his face, but appearing softer. More playful.

There was a woman beside Peter, who I remembered to be Derek's mother. The picture that Conrad had showed me, the same one he had showed Scott and Stiles on the night they had broken in, confirmed the identity of the woman.

On Derek's right side, stood a girl. Younger than him, definitely. A sister maybe? Brown hair, and brown eyes, her hair back in a ponytail, and a scowl on her face.

I flipped the image over, reading the words that had been scrawled neatly. The date had been singed off, but the names hadn't. Talia, Derek, Peter and Cora.

I turned it back, and smiled softly, before gently placing it on the desk. Feeling a pang of sadness settle in my chest, I looked around the burned and dilapidated house with fresh eyes.

The walls may have contained unimaginable pain, but it also held happy memories. Family gatherings, childhood dreams. This house had once been a home. A home to a loving family.

I wasn't sure how long I stood there, looking around, completely lost in my thoughts. I didn't even jump when I heard the door swing open downstairs, or when Stiles's voice called my name.

I slowly exited the study, closing the door gently. Folding my arms, suddenly feeling cold, I made my way to the top of the stairs. Stiles and Scott had stepped inside, whilst Allison hovered by the doorway.

"Lydia's not here." I announced, making my descent. "No one is."

Before any of them could speak, I smiled at Scott,"How'd you get down?"

The boy grinned back, holding up his hand so that I could see his claws.

My smile brightened, and I nodded appreciatively,"Nice."

It was Allison who spoke next, her eyes moving everywhere except for the direction of the living room.

"So, if she isn't here... where is she?"

Scott's mouth opened and closed,"I-I don't know. Her scent ended here."

I leaned against the railing, my arms still folded. As much as I wanted to stay out until Lydia was found, I knew it wasn't logical.

"We can't stay out much longer, our parents will freak." Sighing, I pushed my body away from the stairs, heading for the door. "I say we do one last quick drive around the town, and then pack it in for the night. It's not like no one is looking for her - the whole town is."

I watched my friends consider my suggestion. Stiles nodded, and joined me at the open door.

"One last search it is."

* * *

My sleep that night was fractured, filled with distorted images and muddled words.

I woke up a split second before my alarm clock began to ring, and wasted no time in getting up. I dressed quickly, in dark jeans and a plaid shirt. I pulled a beanie over my red curls, and slipped on a pair of flat ankle boots.

Jen was going to pick me up while she was dropping Lucy to school, so that I could be dropped off at the hospital to pick up my car.

I completely skipped breakfast, deciding to pick something up on the way, and grabbed up my bag, barely saying two words to my parents before I was out the door, and in Jen's car.

I shared casual conversation with my sister, and did my best to keep with my Lucy's little excited babbles. By the time we reached the hospital, the odd haze that had settled around me was gone, and my smile when I said goodbye was genuine at last.

On the short walk to where I had parked my car, I called Allison, asking if she wanted a lift to school. Allison told me that she wouldn't be in until after lunch, as she was helping to add the final details to Kate's funeral.

Then, Allison surprised me. My dear friend asked if I would go to the funeral with her. She explained that, because she and Chris were the only ones to know that I was technically involved, she had easily gotten my name onto the guest list. She added that she had attempted to add Stiles too, though her father had put his foot down. Stiles rarely went anywhere without Scott, after all.

Of course, I said yes. Funerals weren't my thing, it was true. In fact, I rarely went to a family member's funeral. It was just a simple fact that I found them uncomfortable. But, Allison needed me there for support, she had said so herself, so I could grin and bear it. Well, not grin. That would just be bad taste.

Once I reached my car and had said goodbye to Allison, I grimaced towards the hospital, figuring that I had spent far enough time in the place to last a lifetime. I threw my bag into the backseat of my car, relaxing as soon as I slid into the driver's seat.

Driving allowed me to feel as though I had control over something again, and I was almost disappointed when I reached the school. If I could have just continued to drive all day, I would have.

I found a parking space, and caught up with Scott and Stiles outside. The two boys seemed to be deep in conversation, and judging by the tense set of their shoulders, it wasn't good.

I groaned softly and made my way over,"Okay, what's the what?"

And then, Stiles told me all about how his father had responded to a 911 call from the graveyard. Isaac Lahey had been attacked by something, getting knocked into the open grave meant for Kate Argent. When he had gotten out, another grave had been dug up by whatever had attacked him. The next part of the story made me blanch.

"The thing took a liver from a dead body?" Gagging, I pressed a hand against my mouth. "What it would want with a - you know what, _no_. Don't answer. I don't want to know."

"It ran, after that." Stiles continued,"Isaac didn't see anything."

"Ugh, I can't imagine it." I commented, and Scott turned to me, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, you can." He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "You had that dream last night. If you ask me, it sounds _exactly_ like what Isaac experienced."

Stiles lowered his voice next,"Wait, you think you_ saw_ what happened to Isaac?"

"Wait, hold up!" I waved my hands in front of their faces,"_I_ don't think anything!"

"But you said you heard growling, right? So that means a werewolf. You dreamed that you were buried alive basically." Scott argued, and I pouted.

"Don't we have a liver stealing werewolf to worry about?" I reached out and poked Scott's chest,"How about we focus on that instead, hm?"

"Fine, we'll do what the psychic wants." Grinned Scott, reaching up to pat me on the head.

I scowled, raising my voice,"I am not a -"

Realizing that some people had turned to look, I trailed off. Scott began to chuckle, and I reached out, flicking him on the forehead.

I turned back to tell Stiles to continue on with his story, only to gasp as Scott's fingers flicked me on the nose. I let out a squeal of indignation, and Scott nearly doubled over laughing.

"Yeah, okay, you're not psychic - otherwise you would have seen that coming."

Despite myself, I began to laugh, shoving him lightly.

"I_ really_ hate you."

Stiles laughed,"Children, behave. There are normal people around. Anyway, I think we should talk to Isaac about what happened."

"He said he didn't see anything." I shrugged.

"Could have been lying." Was the boy's response.

Scott raised his hand,"Uh, as for this unknown werewolf... what if its not really unknown."

I sighed, rolling my neck,"You think it could be Lydia."

"If she _has_ turned," Scott began quickly, explaining. "Then she has no control over herself."

"But why would she just take the liver?" I asked. "I mean, if she was going to - to eat someone, would she really be so picky? Going solely for the liver, that's...that's a decision."

"Olivia's right, it's too planned." Stiles agreed,"If it's as bad as you say it is, and as I've seen it, then not even Lydia would be able to do such a clean job of it. Besides, around the time that this happened, you found her scent at Derek's place."

Silence fell around us, and then Stiles perked up,"Wait, hold on, if we're gonna find Lydia, then we need to think like a new werewolf." He pointed to Scott,"And you, you're the test case for this, so we should be going over what happened to you."

Scott arched an eyebrow,"What do you mean?"

"I mean like what was going through your mind when you were turning, you know? What were you drawn to?" Stiles elaborated.

"What was your anchor?" I added.

Scott smiled,"Allison."

Nodding, Stiles rolled his eyes slightly,"Okay, nothing else? Seriously?"

"Nothing else mattered." The lovestruck boy shrugged, earning a smile from me. "But, no, that's good, though, right? 'Cause the night that Lydia was bit, she was with you."

"No, she _came_ with me." Stiles corrected,"She got bit when she went looking for _Jackson_."

Scott frowned in confusion,"Wait, so where were _you_ at?"

Stiles's eyes flashed towards me, and I sucked in a breath, averting my eyes towards the ground. I glanced up through my eyelashes, and noticed the blush spreading across Stiles's pale face.

"Around." Stiles answered vaguely.

"Arou-" Scott began to question, and I was thankful when a familiar silver Porsche pulled up.

"Oh hey, something wicked this way comes." I interjected, scowling as Jackson climbed out of his car, five feet and nine inches of utter narcissism.

As we watched him turn to say something more than likely offensive to the poor homeless man that every student was avoiding, I snarled,"Do you guys know that he didn't visit Lydia once, while she was in the hospital? And I texted him, telling him that she had gone missing, but did he text back? Nope. Not even a '_K_.'..."

"Are you really all that surprised?" Scoffed Scott, and I sighed. It was a sad truth that I was, in fact, a little bit surprised. I knew there was a heart in there somewhere, buried under the flashy car and asshole personality, and I had expected for him to at least somewhat lay off after everything that had happened.

As Jackson brushed passed us, I clenched my fists,"Okay, I've held out on punching that guy all this time, can I please do it already?"

I made a move towards him, only to have Stiles pull me back. Scott set his hand on my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.

"No, you might get expelled," Scott shrugged. "We're just looking out for you."

I considered it,"Can I hit him after school hours?"

Stiles grinned down at me,"Only if we get front row seats."

With a laugh, I turned towards the school just as the bell rang. We made our way to class, and took our seats, ready to start the morning with a round of boring classes.

* * *

Later on in the day, Stiles and Scott told me all about how they had approached Jackson, only to have the boy respond with his usual cocky attitude.

Thoroughly provoked by this, the boys had to again stop me from tracking him down.

As a result, I entered Chemistry class already willing to bite someone's head off. Perhaps I should have remembered who my teacher was, and how he had the ability to piss off even the most docile person. I grinned as I sat down. _Docile_.

Definitely something that I had never been.

As per usual, Mr. Harris greeted us with his usual bitterness. He really held no emotion as he rattled off the same message that I every teacher had to read. The message that told everyone that Lydia had gone missing, and if anyone saw her, they were to contact so and so.

Mr. Harris then announced that we were to have a pop quiz. He said it was 'to see how much our tiny, disappointing brains could actually retain'. Rolling my eyes, I nearly snapped the test sheet out of his hands, scrawling my name messily on the top.

I could still hear Scott and Stiles talking about what Jackson had said, and rather guiltily blocked them out as I began my quiz. The last thing I needed, in this mood, was to hear more about the arrogant, spoiled brat that was Jackson Whittemore.

Especially when the same boy sat only a few rows behind me, his face just begging to have something thrown at it.

"This is a pop quiz, Mr. Stilinski." Mr. Harris's insufferable voice drawled from the front of the class,"If I hear your voice again, I may be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career."

Stiles gaped,"Can you do that?"

"Well, there it is again. Your voice. Triggering the only impulse I've ever had to strike a student _repeatedly and violently._ I'll see you at 3:00 for detention."

At this, I threw my pen down angrily. It bounced off the desk, and rolled onto the floor, causing a thud. Rage flared up inside me.

"Did you just - he _actually_ just -" I let out a laugh, before composing myself. "Mr. Harris, that's a threat. You just vocally expressed your desire to hit a teenage boy, in a class full of witnesses. What in your brain tells you that _that's_ okay?"

"Olivia -" Scott began.

"No, let the man talk. I wanna hear all about how his mother didn't hug him enough as a child. Or maybe about how some girlfriend left him. There has to be some reason as to why you're such an insufferable, horrible excuse for a -"

"Olivia, really, it's okay." Stiles had stood up by this time, coming over to set his hand on my arm. He bent down and whispered,"Don't get yourself into trouble."

"Ms. Wright, do you _wish_ to join Mr. Stilinski in detention?" Mr. Harris asked, his voice tight. I could see that his face had gone red, from anger or embarrassment I wasn't sure. I did know that he wasn't used to the students fighting back.

I laughed again, shrugging Stiles off,"Sure. That's actually _perfectly fine_ with me, because while I'm in the Principal's office explaining why you gave me detention, I can tell him all about your desire to _physically assault_ a minor. And then when I'm done there, I'll tell the _Sheriff_. How much you wanna bet that you'll still have a job after that?"

Stiles's hand made its way to my knee, and he squeezed my leg. "She doesn't want a detention."

"She should want to remove herself from my classroom." Mr. Harris grumbled, and I rolled my eyes, eagerly grabbing my bag.

"_She_ has a name, and let's hope that _she_ doesn't have a little chat with the principal." I smiled sweetly, pushing open the classroom door open.

"Mr. Stilinski, I would advise you to sit down and finish your quiz."

"I'll finish it in detention," I heard Stiles reply, and five seconds later, Stiles appeared in the hallway. It was silent for a few moments until the door opened, and Scott joined us.

"Scotty, you didn't have to -" I began, and the boy grinned at me.

"I hate pop quizzes anyway." He winked,"Besides, I ... did _have_ to."

The boy raised his hand, displaying his claws,"They started coming out as soon as you got angry." He explained. "I could _feel_ it, coming off you. It kinda set off the wolf in me, I think."

Sighing, I reached out and grasped Scott's hands, watching as the claws slowly began to retract as I calmed down,"Sorry, Scotty."

"It's okay," Scott chuckled. "That was awesome!"

Rolling my eyes, I glanced over at Stiles to see that his lips had tugged upwards. As the rage calmed down, I was left with embarrassment. Of course, I would still go back and yell at that intolerable swine, but now, standing in the empty hallway, I was feeling a bit flushed.

"What are _you_ smilin' at?" I grumbled, causing Stiles to giggle to himself.

"You were really pissed back there."

This time, I definitely flushed,"Yeah well, I don't like people who think they can get away with saying or doing that stuff. I especially don't like when it's aimed at my friends."

Now Scott was full on grinning, and I went bright red, stomping away from them.

"Shut up!"

I heard them begin to laugh behind them, before they appeared at either side of me. I beamed at them both, reaching up and wrapping one arm around Scott, and the other around Stiles.

"So, I've never actually been asked to leave a class before." I admitted,"What do we do now?"

* * *

**And voila, here is chapter 2. I hope you all liked it, and I look forward to hearing your feedback :)**

**\- Megan**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hazy**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing**.**

* * *

With wasted class time now at our disposal, the three of quickly got down to the current order of business.

We discussed different ways that Scott and Stiles could be at Kate's funeral whilst never actually going anywhere near the Argent hunters, and the different places in the woods where we would search for Lydia once the burial was over.

I pointed out that they could just search themselves while the funeral was underway, as the majority of the hunters would be at the event, but Scott was adamant that he would be there for Allison.

I shrugged, assuring myself mentally that we were not the only ones searching for her. The entirety of Beacon Hills knew of Lydia's disappearance, and the Sheriff's department were on it. Stiles added that every officer that wasn't assigned to the crowd control detail were on Lydia's case.

Talking about the Beacon Hills police department brought us all the way back to Isaac Lahey, and what Stiles's father had been called out to.

"We should _definitely_ talk to him." Scott decided.

Stiles nodded slowly,"Yeah, get his version of the events. See if they match up to Olivia's dream."

I groaned,"If one of you makes a psychic joke, I swear to -"

"I wasn't going to!" Stiles exclaimed, a teasing grin on his face,"Though it is cool that we have a clairvoyant on our team."

"I need new friends." I stated, shaking my head. Ignoring the shared amusement between Stiles and Scott, I leaned forward,"I think I should be the one to talk to Isaac."

"Why?" Scott asked, a frown on his features.

"He'll be more likely to open up to me."

Stiles motioned between himself and Scott,"He's on our lacrosse team."

"And how many times have you actually_ talked_ to the guy?" I countered,"He doesn't really know you guys all that well. Besides, you can be ..."

Stiles narrowed his eyes,"I can be what?"

A smirk touched my lips, and I purposefully never answered Stiles's question.

"We have Biology next class. I'm still Isaac's lab partner." I glanced between them, nodding my head softly. "He'll talk to me."

Once the bell rang, we made our way inside and to Biology class.

I took my seat as usual, sending a small smile towards Isaac in greeting. He seemed no different than usual, his body turned more towards the window than the people of the class. However, as I took my seat, one of my books slid off the desk, and Isaac reached out to grab it before it could fall.

I thanked him, watching him closely as he set the book back on top of my other ones, and then brought his free hand to his forearm, rubbing it softly.

"Hurt your arm?" I asked casually, flipping through the pages of my notebook.

"Uh, yeah."

"Have you had it looked at?"

"It doesn't hurt that much." Isaac shrugged, but the way his lips thinned as he moved his arm proved that he was lying. I reached out, and pulled back then as the class were informed that we had a substitute teacher that day.

As the sub settled the class down, I turned back to Isaac, motioning towards his arm,"You mind if I...? My mom's a nurse."

Isaac hesitated before rolling up his t-shirt sleeve to his elbow. I smiled gently, the urge to handle him the same way I handled an injured Lucy washing over me.

As I examined his wrist, determining that nothing was broken but advising him to acquire ice and pain killers.

"Did that happen last night too?" I asked, glancing up quickly at his bruised eye.

"Yeah." Isaac answered, and I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from pointing out that the bruising around his eye, and the bruising around his forearm were at different stages of healing.

Meaning the black eye came before the attack last night.

"You know about last night?" Isaac asked, and I was forced to file that information away for a later date. I looked towards the boys, and gave Isaac a relaxed smile.

"Stiles is a big fan of spying on his father." I drawled,"But don't worry, I don't think anyone else knows. And your secret is safe with me, I know how shaken up it can make you. Being involved in something like that. The absolute_ last_ thing you want is everyone staring, right?"

Isaac nodded, giving me a small smile. Taking this as a positive, I continued,"I mean, sometimes, when everyone's whispering, you'd almost prefer the wolf."

Laughing easily, I repeated,"Almost."

"The wolf doesn't want gossip material." Isaac joked, and I let out another laugh.

"And if it does, then that's a whole other situation."

As Isaac chuckled, I beamed over at Stiles and Scott, who were both smiling and shaking their heads at me. Happy that I had been right, I continued on.

"It's weird though, isn't it? Seeing it up close."

"I didn't." Isaac shrugged,"I just heard it. I work at the graveyard -"

"Don't you get creeped out?"

"I actually like the quiet." The boy said wistfully,"I'm pretty sure I only heard it because of the quiet. And the strange thing is, it never attacked me. That's what it does, right? It ... eats people. But it just knocked my excavator over. I fell into the grave I'd been digging, and the excavator trapped me in it."

I remembered this. I remembered the anxiety, and the claustrophobia, and almost felt bad about making Isaac talk about it. I had dreamed it, but he had lived it. Less than 24 hours before.

Seeing that he had gotten lost in his thoughts, I waited for a moment before shifting in my seat, silently reminding him that I was there, and I was listening.

"I could hear it... clawing. And other stuff. I don't know how long I was down there. I landed on my arm, and that's why..." He motioned towards his bruises,"Then it just went quiet? The growling stopped. And the excavator was moving. Being lifted. Those are too heavy to lift by yourself, but when I looked up -"

As though he was realizing that he had said too much, Isaac clamped his mouth shut. Leaning forward, I softly prodded his arm.

"What did you see?"

It took a few moments, but finally, Isaac sighed. "Some guy was standing there. He pulled me out. I was going to tell the police about him, but he... he was there. When I was talking to the Sheriff, he was standing there. Watching. And then he disappeared. Just like he did when he pulled me out."

Though my suspicions were practically screaming, I questioned,"Well, what did he look like?"

"Pale. Blue eyes. Tall? I think. Black -"

"Hair, black leather jacket, facial hair, a smirk that says '_I'm laughing at something you're doing because I know something you don't, but I'm not going to tell you what, let you do what you're doing, and then tease you for it later_'?" I finished, and Isaac looked surprised.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

Flashing Isaac a grin, I chirped,"Lucky guess."

"Hey! You two in the back." The substitute called, though not rudely. "I don't mind you helping each other, but could you keep it to a whisper?"

Sending the man an apologetic smile, I made a show of locking my lips and throwing away the key.

Once the substitute turned his attention away from me, my eyes found Scott and Stiles. Scott was whispering what Isaac had told me to Stiles, and when he was all caught up, the two of them met my eyes.

Sharing a concerned look with them, I tossed another small smile to Isaac before burying my head into my work.

* * *

"I can talk to him!"

"No!"

I huffed, quickening my pace to catch up with Stiles. Scott was silent as we walked, and I grabbed onto Stiles's arm, pulling him around to face me.

"He was there. He would have seen the wolf. He would have known if it was Lydia! He has the answers we're looking for, so why the hell don't you two see that going to him is the smart decision here?"

Jaw clenching, Stiles twisted his arm so that he was holding mine. Dragging me around the corner, Scott trailing behind, he lowered his voice.

"Derek killed Peter -"

Huffing again, I pulled my arm from his,"Yes, I was there. Front row seats, remember?"

"He's the Alpha now because of it." Stiles continued, ignoring my interjection.

"But he's also still Derek Hale!" I exclaimed,"The same Derek that told us to run and leave him there that night at the hospital. He fought Peter, and we survived because of it. And _you_," I poked Stiles in the chest,"Can't deny that without him there, we wouldn't have stood much of a chance. And I know you guys don't see him the way I do -"

"And what way do you see him?" Stiles asked, challenging. Flattening my hand against his chest, I softened my eyes, pleading for him to see it from my point of view.

"As a_ friend_." I removed my hand from Stiles's chest and looked at Scott. I knew this statement would trouble Scott too, as I knew that Scott was just as concerned about my friendship with the remaining Hale. To his credit, Scott was a lot less vocal about his hesitance.

"Like it or not, Derek is my friend. Sometimes he doesn't make the best decisions, sure, but he's not a bad guy. He saved Isaac last night. Which means that he was there to see what attacked him. If you two are right, if Lydia has... if she turned, then Derek is the only one who can confirm it or deny it. So I'm going to talk to him. For Lydia."

Without waiting for either boy to speak, I turned on my heel and walked away.

* * *

Not five seconds later, I received a message from Allison, letting me know that she had come into school. I headed towards her locker, sidling up beside her and leaning against the locker beside hers.

"Hey, friend."

Allison looked at me with a smile,"Hey. You look... tense."

Rolling my neck, I let out a groan but didn't speak.

"You're still coming to the funeral, right?" Though her question was asked casually, I noticed the slight look of fear in her eyes. Like she was afraid I'd say no. Afraid that I was leaving her to fend for herself at the funeral.

In order to reassure her, I gave her a smile,"Of course. Though I'm still surprised your father allowed it."

"Same here," Allison laughed. "Though I did put him in a tough spot. I asked mom first, and dad promised not to tell anyone about ... everything, so he couldn't come up with any reason as to why you couldn't come. Mom would have asked questions, because Dad had never had a problem with you before, so he just agreed and left it at that."

"Nice." I nodded appreciatively.

"I just hope he doesn't try to corner you the way he did to Scott."

"Ah, don't worry if he does." I shrugged easily,"I can handle your father."

"Olivia, hey! Come here!" I heard the voice call from down the busy hallway. Danny stood at the end of the hallway, with a very sheepish, very jittery looking Jackson.

As soon as I excused myself from Allison, and bypassed the two whispering girls whose names I didn't care to know, Jackson caught my eye. I raised an eyebrow, but he just shook his head to himself, muttered something to Danny, and walked away.

Reaching Danny, I slid my arm through his,"What's up with Oliver Queen?"

"Who?"

"Oliver Queen." I repeated,"Green Arrow? Rich guy turned vigilante? Except, Jackson's no vigilante. He's just rich. And moody. My reference makes no sense now that I think about it, though he does kinda look like Roy Harper -"

"Olivia!" Chuckled Danny,"You're rambling."

"Right, sorry." I laughed,"What's up with him?"

"I don't know. Aside from the usual Jackson mood swings, he had to leave class after you nearly threw Mr. Harris out the window -"

"I should have." I muttered, grumpy.

"He had a nose bleed." Danny continued,"Pretty heavy too. I guess it spooked him. Hell, it would spook me too. His blood was black."

"Wait, what?" I exclaimed.

"Or maybe it was just a really dark red. It looked black, I swear."

I glanced down to where Jackson had disappeared to, my forehead furrowing,"Did anyone go check on him?"

"I was going to, but I'm pretty sure Mr. Harris's head was about to explode. But on the bright side, no one is ever going to piss you off ever again."

I groaned, leaning my head against Danny's arm,"I'm never going to live that one down, am I?"

"Never ever." 

* * *

The rest of the day flew by. Classes just seemed to blend together. Maybe it was because my mind was focused on forming my plan.

Danny sat with us at lunch, meaning that there was absolutely no werewolf talk at all. Which, was good for me. It meant that none of my friends had the chance to talk me out of speaking to Derek. It also meant that keeping my plan a secret was a whole lot easier.

During lunch, I did detach from the ideas swirling around my brain long enough to note that Allison's eyes seemed to be a little bit glossy. I glanced at Scott, who assured me with a soft smile that she was okay. Whatever had upset her, Scott had dealt with.

As soon as the last bell rang, I was gone. Climbing into my car, I took a detour from my usual route home, because I didn't want to hit the 'traffic'.

This detour led me to the edge of the woods, and _somehow_, I ended up at the Hale house. A _total_ coincidence.

That was my story anyway, and I was sticking to it if any of my friends ever found out.

Hugging my coat closer to my body, I shot a paranoid glance over my shoulder at the woods behind me as I walked up the porch steps.

Knocking hesitantly on the door, I pushed it open.

"Derek?" I called. "I know you're around somewhere. Maybe not here, but somewhere. So if you are here, can we talk? I know you were at the graveyard last night. You saw what attacked Isaac and ... you're not here, are you?"

As soon as I stopped talking, I heard movement upstairs. Taking the stairs slowly, I whined,"Seriously? You're making me walk up the stairs? That's just mean."

Halfway up, I paused mid-step. It was true that Derek had a flair for drama, but something was off. Derek would have shown himself as soon as I had entered the house, if not before. He certainly wouldn't drag it out.

Listening, I heard the movement upstairs stop. A second later, I heard what sounded like a doorknob turning. The soft sound spiked the anxiety inside me, letting me know that something was most definitely wrong.

In my pocket, my phone buzzed and I slapped a hand against my coat. Grasping my phone in one hand, I read the message on my screen.

_Run - D._

Not thinking twice, I took Derek's order and spun around, sprinting down the steps. As a last thought, I slowed on the porch and slammed the door closed behind myself.

As I disappeared through the trees, I swore that I heard two different growls, but didn't dare look back. I ran until I reached my car, and jumped inside, locking the doors behind myself.

Grabbing the steering wheel, I bent my head and allowed myself to catch my breath. I reached for my phone, breathing heavily through my nose as I typed.

_Meet me after Kate's funeral. I need to talk to you. Be careful._

* * *

Tossing my phone into the passenger seat, I revved the engine of my car, and assured myself that Derek could handle whatever he was now facing.

"Where have you been?" Mom asked as I passed by the living room.

"Traffic." I answered quickly, making a beeline for the stairs. "I have to get ready for Kate's funeral."

Once I reached my room, I let out a breath and pushed my hair from my face. Stripping off my clothes, I pulled on a plain black skater dress and black tights. Adding dark red lipstick to my previously applied makeup, I hurried around my room, placing everything I might need into a matching dark red clutch.

Grabbing my hairbrush off of the nightstand, I styled my hair into a low bun, curling two strands with my fingers, and letting them fall in front to frame my face.

Black ankle boots completed the look, and within twenty minutes of returning home, I was leaving again.

I hadn't put much thought into what I should have expected at the graveyard. I knew there would be some sort of media presence, but I hadn't been prepared for the sheer number of unfamiliar faces. News crews were up front, battling the newspaper photographers for the best shots, whilst outraged civilians yelled and pushed, sickened by Kate's crime some years prior.

Having no desire to push through the crowd, I simply observed for a moment. The familiar uniforms relaxed me a bit, and I trusted that the Sheriff's department had everything under control.

Sheriff Stilinski spotted me, and began to make his way over. I moved towards the makeshift barriers, biting on my tongue to keep myself from shooting some kind of sarcastic remark to the people that were yelling things.

"Hey, get out of the way!" The Sheriff called, waving his hand in order to tell some of the crowd to part,"Let her through."

Once I reached him, the man quickly put his hand protectively on my back, steering me away from the angered citizens.

"Do they have to be so rough?" I scoffed, allowing him to lead me towards the gathering of Argents.

The Sheriff hummed in agreement, before stopping me,"How're you holding up, kid?"

I sighed,"I've been better. Any word on Lydia?"

The look that flashed in his eyes told me the answer, and I tried my best to muster a smile,"You'll find her."

The Sheriff smiled back, giving my shoulder a squeeze before returning to control the crowd.

I hesitated before taking another few steps towards Allison. As soon as she saw me, she was up and moving to hug me. I rubbed her back soothingly, much like my own mother had when I was upset as a little girl, and smiled sadly when I heard my friend sniffle.

"You're okay." I promised, pulling back. "We're gonna get you through this."

Allison nodded, wiping her eyes and standing up a little straighter. Turning my attention towards her parents, I avoided her father's eyes as I offered my condolences.

I chatted briefly with her mother, commenting politely on the lovely choice of floral arrangements, before some more family members arrived. Stepping off to the side, I stood quietly until eventually, as expected, Chris came to stand beside me.

Neither of us looked at each other, occasionally offering polite smiles whenever anyone glanced in our direction.

As he opened his mouth to speak, I spoke first.

"I know what you're going to say."

"What's that?" Chris asked.

"It's risky for me to be here given the fact that the place is crawling with werewolf hunters, and then something about Scott, maybe even something about Lydia -" I rambled until he spoke. What he said surprised me.

"I was gonna thank you for being here for my daughter." Chris says. "Given your history with... with Kate, and considering where your allegiances lie, I was surprised when Allison told us you were coming."

"My allegiances lie with my _friends_." I started, finally turning to look at him, and waiting until he too looked at me before I spoke again. "With Derek Hale, and Scott... and with Allison. Besides, look at this place. It's a mob. I wasn't about to let her get thrown to the wolves."

Realizing the unintentional pun, I froze, flushing,"Oh my God, that was not planned. No pun intended, I swear. I just meant, the whole media thing, and family, and it's an expression and why - why am I still talking?"

Apparently my obvious embarrassment was a point of amusement for the man, as Chris again shocked me by cracking a smile.

"I'm glad she has you."

Clamping my mouth shut, I managed a soft smile before he excused himself. I watched him walk back towards his wife, and caught Allison's eye. She had been watching our exchange, shoulders tense until I nodded quickly at her, telling her it was fine.

Her worried eyes turned towards a strange man who had just spoken to her. I peered at the man, instantly feeling my defenses rise up and lock into place. He was dressed immaculately, his posture rigid.

I looked around, guaging everyone else's reaction to the man. It reminded me of the time in elementary school, when the principal would walk into class and everyone would freeze, because it was the scary principal, and everyone knew the principal was in charge.

There were two men standing slightly off to the side, resembling bodyguards with their hands clasped in front of them, and their eyes sweeping the grounds.

I realized then, that they probably were bodyguards.

Allison was clearly uncomfortable and I moved without realizing. I stopped just behind Mr. Argent, a respectful but smart distance.

Still, the movement must have caught the man's attention as he instantly turned to look at me. When his eyes hit me, I indulged the surprising urge to shy away, and avert my eyes.

Once I did, I caught a flash of movement behind a headstone. Scott and Stiles, I realized with relief. Shaking my head, I made a mental note to tease them about their hiding spot later.

A spark of defiance shot up within me once I realized what I had done. There was an air of intimidation around the man which had caused everyone else to stand to attention. But this man didn't intimidate me, and I wasn't about to let him think he did.

So I looked back. I met his eyes, and held his gaze with a stoic expression. He tilted his head at me, almost as though he was sizing me up, and my eyes instinctively narrowed.

Then, a smile appeared on his face. Meant to appear genuine, though the strange gleam in his eyes told me otherwise, and I didn't even bother to try and smile back.

"And who might this be? Don't tell my I have another granddaughter I don't know about."

"Uh, this is Olivia. She's my friend." Allison introduced, her voice light but shaky. "Olivia, this is Gerard. He's my grandfather. Dad's side."

The man extended his hand for me to shake, and I took it, shaking it more firmly than he clearly expected.

"I'm sorry for your loss." I spoke clearly.

"So am I."

I bit the inside of my lip, a spiteful part of myself wanting to comment on how, for a man who had just lost a daughter, he didn't seem very torn up about it. Even if her casket was only a few steps away.

I was saved from any more conversation with this man as soon as the priest called for everyone to take a seat. I gave Allison one last comforting smile before making my way to an empty seat in the middle row. Settling myself in for a long ceremony, I couldn't get the feel of Gerard's eyes off of me. 

* * *

The burial went faster than expected, and I was thankful when Allison pulled me towards a few of her cousins. They were much easier to talk to, and I even found myself laughing. I was glad to see Allison laughing too, though we both halted when my phone buzzed.

"It's Scott." I whispered, moving closer to the girl so that she too could read the text.

The text explained that there had been an attack on an ambulance a little ways down the road. Stiles was going to meet me there. The text ended with three worrying words.

_Could be Lydia._

"Go."

I glanced up at Allison,"But -"

"Olivia, one of us can leave the graveyard right now, and we both know it isn't me. _If_ it's Lydia, she's going to need at least one of us. Go."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" I asked, and Allison nodded, wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

"I'll be fine. Thank you for coming. And tell Scott and Stiles thank you too, okay?"

"I will. Good luck." I said in parting, and excused myself from the funeral.

On my way back to my car, I nearly ran straight into Gerard. I avoided him by pressing my phone to my ear, as though I was answering a phone call.

Grimacing once I made it to my car, I finally allowed myself to shudder. There were creepy old dudes, and then there was Gerard Argent.

Reversing out of my parking space, I took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for what I was about to witness. 

* * *

I parked a little ways down the road, using the cover of the trees to mask my car. I weaved in and out around the trees, breathing a sigh of relief when I caught sight of Stiles, hiding behind a small incline of earth.

"Hey," I whispered, dropping down beside him, avoiding letting my eyes drift towards the ambulance. Officers littered the area, as well as police cruisers. I could hear Sheriff Stilinski's voice from where we were crouched low.

"Where's Scott?"

"He caught a scent."

"Lydia's?"

"We're not sure." Stiles sighed, running a hand over his head.

"It's not her."

My head whipped around so fast that a sharp stab of pain ran up my neck. I winced, rubbing the spot briefly before standing and rushing over to Derek.

I threw my arms around his neck in relief, surprising all three of us by my actions.

Still, I felt his hand come up to rub my back. It was then that this words registered, and I avoided the twitching of Stiles's jaw as I broke the hug.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"It's not Lydia." Derek said,"The werewolf doing all of this, is an Omega. And a man."

"_Another_ werewolf?" Stiles questioned with a soft whine.

"Probably just passing through from another town." Derek explained.

"And leaving a trail of destruction in his wake." I mumbled, and then motioned towards the ambulance,"And bodies."

"He was almost leaving _your_ body behind." Derek's tone was disapproving, and I sheepishly looked away.

"How was I supposed to know there'd be an Omega in your house?"

"In your ..." Stiles trailed off, and when he spoke again, he was clearly frustrated with me. "You went to his _house_?!"

"I told you I was going to talk to him!" I exclaimed defensively,"I just neglected to tell you the rest of my plan."

Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes at me. Groaning dramatically, I waved him off,"Oh yes, okay, Olivia does dumb, semi-dangerous things, we know this already! This behavior shouldn't surprise you."

"It _doesn't_!" Stiles waved his arms around,"That's the problem!"

"It's not like I died! I'm perfectly fine!"

"Only because I happened to be around." Derek pointed out dryly, and I shushed him.

"Whose side are you on?"

Derek cracked a smirk before glancing at Stiles,"You said Scott was chasing this guy?"

"Just left."

Derek nodded swiftly, and disappeared two seconds later. Leaving me alone with an angry Stiles.

"I didn't tell you because you wouldn't have let me go." I tried,"Which is stupid, because I'm my own person."

"Yes, you are. It's not that I wouldn't have let you go. I know that you're going to do whatever you decide to do." Stiles sighed. "Trust me, I know that getting in your way when you decide to do something is dangerous. You should have at least told us. What if Derek wasn't there today? Do you even realize what could have happened?"

"Yes, Stiles, I do." I stated firmly. "Okay, I know first hand what could have happened. But it didn't! Nothing happened."

"But it could have -"

"But it_ didn't_." I took a step towards him,"I didn't know he was going to be there. I didn't even know he _existed_. I should have told you, or Scott, and I'm sorry I didn't, but I can't change that now. So can we please stop focusing on things that can't be changed and instead of focusing on what this means?"

I glanced towards the crime scene quickly,"Lydia didn't do any of this. We haven't heard from her in nearly 24 hours. That's 24 hours of running around God knows where, in the freezing cold. It means that she could have been running around the woods whilst... whilst that other werewolf was lurking."

Sudden fear hit me, and I felt my eyes widen,"Oh my God, what if he got to her? What if she's hurt? Or worse? What if -"

"Hey, hey." Stiles reached out and placed his hands on my face,"You're panicking."

"A little bit, yeah." I gasped,"Not panic-attack level panicking, but panicking. What if we don't find her?"

"We will."

"But how can you be so sure?"

"Because it's _Lydia_. The whole town is looking for her, but the whole town don't have werewolves on their side. They're not as close to her as we are. We're not going to stop looking until we find her." Stiles promised me,"Besides, I'll bet she's perfectly fine. It's Lydia, right? Certified secret genius. She's going to be okay. And she needs you to be okay too."

Nodding slowly, I listened to him speak until I felt my heartbeat reduce speed, slowing to its normal pace. A small laugh escaped me, though it sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"Of all the times to nearly have a panic attack, I have one when I'm perfectly safe."

"We don't choose the panic attack, the panic attacks choose us." Stiles mumbled, making me chuckle.

"Oh, never has there been a truer statement."

Stiles smiled, stroking his thumb over my cheek, and clearing a way a tear that had slipped from my eye. Now that the panic had dulled, I finally became aware of his hand on my face. My cheeks heated up under his palm, and if he noticed, he didn't say anything.

Instead he moved his hand towards the back of my head, and pulled me to him. His other hand came up to wrap around my shoulders, and I melted into the hug, reveling in the comforting gesture.

I wound my arms around his back, leaning my forehead into his chest and smiling when I felt his chin bump against the top of my head.

And that was how Sheriff Stilinski found us.

"Stiles?" He called, his tone sounding more tired than surprised.

Stiles pulled back, though surprised me by keeping an arm around me,"Oh, hey daddy-o! There's a perfectly reasonable explanation to why I happen to be here."

"Let me guess; you heard the report come in and you're too curious for your own good?"

Despite the brief bit of irritation on the Sheriff's face, I couldn't help but grin as Stiles let out a puff of air in the form of a chuckle.

"That would be the reason I mentioned."

"And Olivia?" The Sheriff called, his voice more disappointed than frustrated.

"Would you believe me if I said it was a coincidence?"

"No."

"Then I won't say that." I cleared my throat, searching my brain for an excuse.

"I brought her here." Stiles covered, earning a raised eyebrow,"We're uh... on a date."

"What?" The Sheriff asked, looking surprisingly pleased.

"_What_?" I echoed, tossing Stiles a dark look even as my cheeks flamed.

"Eh, yeah." Coughed Stiles,"I mean, we're going on one. I thought it would be cool to stop by here first. Because I'm strange. And curious."

"Oh believe me, I know." The Sheriff's expression was pained, and I again had to keep myself from grinning.

Instead, I finally allowed myself to look at the ambulance. I expected myself to be nauseated at the amount of blood, but instead only felt disturbed. I counted that as progress.

"What happened here?" I asked lightly, turning on the doe eyes.

"Well," The Sheriff sighed. "They were transporting a heart attack victim to the hospital when they got hit. The driver was able to call for help. The victim... well, C.O.D. is definitely not a heart attack."

As he spoke, the Sheriff began walking towards the ambulance. We followed along after him, listening to him and taking in the scene.

"How did it happen?" Stiles asked, causing his father to turn to look at him.

"Wait, you're not going to tell us? Dad, come on. Was - was it slashing? Or - or biting, maybe? Chewing?"

"Ew." I muttered, glancing away from the ambulance and towards the trees. Movement caught my eye, and I squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the half-hidden shape.

"Chewing?" I heard the Sheriff echo in disgust.

"Yeah, like, nibbling. Maybe in the liver region?"

"I'm getting you a therapist."

"Guys." I caught their attention, pointing into the distance as the branches of the low trees began to part, a hand pulling them away.

When the person finally emerged, stepping into the light of the police cruisers, a relieved gasp escaped me.

"Lydia?" I whispered, my voice breaking, and not as loud as intended. Overwhelmed with relief, my voice refused to work.

"Lydia!" Stiles called out for me, his voice a lot deeper and louder than mine had been.

The startled, naked girl jumped at the sound of it, and looked up, her wide green eyes searching until they landed on us.

"Well," She began, her voice shaky but somehow strong. She extended her arms, revealing herself in the process as she stared at the surprised faces around her.

"Isn't anyone going to get me a coat?" 

* * *

_Ahh Lydia! That line always makes me laugh._

_So, this chapter, as you can tell by the time it took, was slightly problematic. Not because of writer's block (though that did come into play at the beginning), but because my life has been crazy busy._

_Finding time to write was rare, but the cherry on top was how I wrote out the entire chapter today, and then... I accidentally yanked out my laptop charger. And I didn't have my laptop battery in._

_And yep, you guessed it. I hadn't saved my work._

_So I had to write it all out again, but I'm really glad that I did, because I really wanted to get this chapter out to you guys._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And I promise, the next chapter will not take as long as this one. And let's all hope I don't have anymore clumsy moments, and that I make sure to save my work every once in a while._

_Can't wait to hear from you all!_  
-_ Megan._


	4. Chapter 4

**Ha****zy**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Sorry I couldn't reply to them, but they were most definitely read and appreciated. I'll do my best to reply this time around. Also, thank you to everyone who followed and favourited since then! :)

* * *

"They just killed him?"

My voice was tight, my hand shaking as it came up to push itself through my messy hair. The adrenaline of the night was quickly wearing off, leaving me feeling jittery.

"Sliced him in half." Scott replied.

"Chris?"

"Gerard."

Another breath left me as I turned into the corner, shielding my phone from the view of a nurse. I waited until the unfamiliar woman had disappeared around the corner before speaking again.

"Knew he was creepy." I sighed,"I mean, I know we wanted the Omega dealt with, but we didn't want him, you know, '_dealt_' with." There was a pause before I asked,"Are _you_ okay?"

"They had no idea Derek and I were watching. We ran. We're both okay. How's Lydia?"

Scott's answer had made me smile,"She's okay too. Aside from a few scratches from branches and the like, she's perfectly healthy. Peter's marks are healing up normally, and Lydia has no memory of the entire thing."

"None at all?"

"She doesn't even remember leaving the hospital." I answered, thinking back to the moments after Lydia had returned.

The Sheriff had kindly provided his jacket, after rolling his eyes as Stiles tripped over his own two feet, thrown off by the sight of the female body. I had helped the boy up, before landing a particularly painful pinch to the inside of his elbow.

I had helped Lydia cover herself up, rubbing her arms to generate heat after we shared a relieved hug. Despite her usual snarky attitude, I felt her relax in my arms, a sigh escaping her and smiled, soothing her unruly hair back as a way of comforting her. I was rewarded a smile before the mask was back in place.

The Sheriff escorted us to the hospital, and since Lydia was making it very clear that I was not to leave her side, I had thrown Stiles my car keys, allowing him to drive my precious baby to the hospital behind us.

I had been allowed into her room with her until her mother arrived, and then I excused myself, calling Scott immediately.

"I haven't had much of a chance to talk to her with everyone hovering around. Are you coming here or laying low?"

"Laying low. Allison is on her way, right?" Scott asked.

"Yeah."

"Don't tell her about Gerard? I just want to ..."

"Keep her from knowing that her dear old grandfather has a knack for slicing and dicing? Oh, but wouldn't _that_ make interesting dinner conversation..."

Scott chuckled,"Just keep it between us."

"I promise, Scotty. Though I'm pretty sure she was just as creeped out by Gerard as we were anyway."

"Who was creeped out by Gerard?" Allison's voice asked behind me. I said goodbye to Scott, before turning and pointing a finger towards her.

"You. And me. And basically everyone who has ever met Gerard, I'd imagine. No offense."

Allison laughed,"None taken. Was that Scott?"

"Uh, yeah." I glanced quickly at my phone,"They found the Omega, but it's all fine now. No more attacks. By him, anyway."

"You're such an optimist." The girl teased and I snorted.

"How's Lydia?"

"I'm fine." Lydia's voice joined us. Her mother gave us each a smile, which we both returned, as the green-eyed girl rolled her eyes.

"They told me I could go home tonight, thank God."

"Wait, really?" I frowned,"You just went on an impromptu hike."

"Hey, I'm not going to question them." Lydia shrugged.

"What a night, huh?" Another voice let out a warm chuckle, and I glanced over to see the Sheriff and Stiles approaching us.

"Thank you so much for everything you did to find my daughter." Mrs. Martin spoke, reaching over to shake hands with the Sheriff. As they exchanged polite words, I slipped over to Stiles.

"The Omega's dead." I whispered, leaning into him. "Gerard."

"Is Scott okay?"

"Derek got there in time. They had no idea Scott was even there."

"Good." Stiles breathed, his hand coming up to rest briefly on my hip. The touch was casual, but as we turned back to the others, I caught both the Sheriff and Lydia eying us curiously.

I wasn't sure which pair of eyes made me more nervous.

Some idle conversation was shared before we all agreed that it was late, and probably best that everyone got some well deserved rest.

I bid goodbye to my friends, warning Lydia to take it easy and getting my keys from Stiles, before going off towards my car.

The rain had started sometime after we'd arrived at the hospital, and I allowed myself a brief moment to stop, and listen to it. I had always loved the sound of rain, and how it always seemed to relax me.

The soothing rainfall was interrupted by my phone, and when I glanced at my phone, my shoulders slumped.

I had set the reminders up in what felt like a lifetime ago. Tomorrow night was the full moon, it told me, and I started up my car with a deep inhale, wondering what the next day would bring.

* * *

"Hmm?"

"Morning sleepyhead." Allison laughed down the phone,"Did I wake you?"

"_No_, I've been up for hours." I lied, rolling out of my bed and landing with a thump. "That was a bad idea."

"What is with you and rolling off furniture?"

"It's less effort for me." I shrugged, pulling myself up. "So what's up?"

"I'm pulling up to your house." Allison told me,"I figured we could go pick up breakfast and surprise Lydia. She's coming back to school today and could use the support. And I'm outside."

"Okie dokie." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and hanging up. Padding down the stairs, I unlocked the front door and let my best friend in.

"Cute PJ's." Allison teased, nodding towards my panda bear onesie.

Pulling up the hood to display the cartoon panda's face and ears, I grinned,"I'm adorable."

Allison snapped a picture of me, and I rolled my eyes, beginning to head into the kitchen.

"And send, to Stiles and Scott!"

"_No!_" I turned around, grabbing her phone in time to see the picture send,"I _will_ get you back."

I handed her phone back and we both headed upstairs so that I could get ready. I pulled on my light denim jeans and a pair of floral print vans.

"They texted back." Allison said, rolling onto her back on my bed,"Scott wants you to buy him one -"

"I'll buy him a wolf one."

Laughing at my joke, Allison continued,"And Stiles said... you're the cutest panda he's ever seen."

My cheeks flushed, turning the same colour as my hair, and I turned towards my wardrobe to hide it from my friend. Distracting myself by pulling on a simple grey peter-pan collar jumper, I barely heard Allison's question.

"What?" I asked, switching on my hair straightener.

"Is something going on with you and Stiles?"

The question caused a jolt to go through me, and my hand slipped onto the hottest part of the straightener. Cursing, I waved my hand in the air.

"Ow!"

"Are you okay?" Allison asked through her barely contained giggles.

"Fine." I mumbled, beginning the process of taming my curls,"What's a few third degree burns?" Dramatically, I shook out my hand again.

"So, is there?"

"Is there wha - oh!" Remembering her question, I did my best not to flush again,"No! Of course not. Stiles is..." I faltered.

"Stiles is Stiles." I finished lamely.

Wanting to move on from the topic, I glanced at the clock,"You want to be the bestest best friend and finish my hair while I start on my makeup?"

Allison nodded and mercifully let the topic drop as she scooted off my bed, and took the purple straightener from my hands.

With her help, I was ready within a few minutes. I was sure that there was a remaining blush on my cheeks that had nothing to do with my makeup, and I squashed the urge to ask Allison if I could see Stiles's message.

Hearing Allison read out the words had caused enough of an effect, but for some reason, I wanted to read them myself. Shaking my head, I pushed the thoughts away. I had just managed to convince Allison that the comment was nothing out of the ordinary; over thinking it would ruin any progress made.

I wasn't exactly sure why I had decided to lie to her. After all, she was one of my closest friends, and there was definitely something going on between myself and the hyperactive boy.

I told myself that it was because I wasn't quite sure what that something was, and until I did, I didn't want to make a huge deal out of it.

Content with my conclusion, I followed Allison into my kitchen. We still had a surprising amount of time before we had to make it to school, and I put that down to my friend being the definition of an early bird.

I wasn't surprised to find my parents in the kitchen, conversing casually about their upcoming days.

"Good morning!" Mom greeted brightly,"You two ready to go?"

She glanced at the clock, her brow furrowing in the slightest, and Allison took it upon herself to explain.

"We're going to pick up something for breakfast and bring it to Lydia. Figured she deserved some TLC after everything."

My mother smiled warmly,"That's so lovely of you, girls. How is she doing?"

"It's like it never happened," I replied, drumming my fingertips along the breakfast counter. "But we're still going to keep an eye on her - just in case."

"And honey," Mom began, reaching out to squeeze Allison's shoulder. "How are you doing, after the funeral?"

"I'm just glad it's over now." Allison breathed,"Oh, and my parents wanted to thank you both again for the lasagna you sent over."

"You sent lasagna?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We decided to drop by to pay our respects last night." My father spoke, setting down the tablet he had been typing on. "We didn't know Kate, but we wanted to help out in any way we could."

"Thank you." Allison smiled sincerely while I just stared at my father suspiciously.

"_Okay_..." I spoke slowly.

"I saw you got stuck talking to Gerard." Allison said in the direction of my father, a hint of a smirk on her face.

My father chuckled,"He's an ... interesting character."

"The two of them got on like a house on fire." Mom grinned over the ring of her coffee mug before taking a slow sip.

My suspicious gaze hardened. Pursing my lips, I smiled sarcastically,"Gee, that sounds super!"

"You're sarcastic in the morning." Allison teased and I snorted, grabbing her arm and tugging her out of the kitchen.

"Bye!" I called into the house before closing the front door,"Looks like my father and your grandfather are going to be having tea parties."

Groaning, Allison climbed into the driver's seat,"I would have interrupted them, but then I'd be stuck with Gerard. You know he's staying with us? I last saw the man when I was three, and got a cheque from him every year on my birthday, and now he's staying across the hall from me."

"You and Scott are going to have to be a lot sneakier." I laughed, fiddling with the radio. "And quieter."

"Olivia!"

"What?!

Rolling her eyes, Allison smirked softly as we drove away from my home.

* * *

When we reached Lydia's, with coffee and bagels in hand, I wasn't so surprised to find the girl already wake. The soft, dark circles underneath her eyes told me that she'd been awake for a while, but despite this, Lydia beamed at seeing us.

"Morning!" Allison grinned, hugging her,"We come bearing gifts."

"And what better gift is there but food?" I added, setting the tray of coffees down on the kitchen table. Mrs. Martin smiled her thanks as I handed one of the styrofoam cups to her.

"You're just on time," Lydia said, taking a bite of her bagel. "I'm having an outfit dilemma, and I need opinions."

Upstairs, sipping our coffees, Allison and I lay sprawled across Lydia's bed as she twirled around in various different dresses. We eventually settled on a wine coloured bodycon dress. The material was soft, and wouldn't put too much pressure on her still healing wound.

Once Lydia was ready, she joined us on the bed, and we all spent a few minutes talking before we had to leave for school.

We filled in the blanks of everything Lydia had missed while unconscious, intentionally leaving out biggest parts of that story. If Lydia sensed that there were sections of our story missing, she didn't let on, instead choosing to comfort Allison about Kate.

"Girls!" Mrs. Martin knocked, popping her head around the door. "If you don't leave soon, you'll be late for first period."

Groaning, I began to slide sideways. Allison reached out and grabbed my arm, tugging me upwards,"_Don't_ slide off the bed again!"

"She's still doing that?" Lydia laughed, grabbing her bag and jacket.

Allowing Lydia to have the passenger seat, I slid into the back of Allison's car, buckling myself up and glancing at the screen of my phone to check on the time.

"We've got... fifteen minutes." I told the tall brunette as she climbed in.

"Plenty of time."

* * *

As it turned out, Allison was right. We arrived at the school with a little bit more than five minutes to spare. During the car ride, Lydia had surprised us by talking about her disappearance. We had agreed to not ask her any more than necessary, though the girl herself seemed almost at ease talking about it. Probably because she genuinely had no memory of the ordeal.

"You really don't remember anything?" Allison questioned as we walked up the steps of the front entrance.

"They called it a fugue state, which is basically a way of saying '_We have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked for two days_.'" Lydia shrugged,"But personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds."

Snorting, I nudged her,"Ever the optimist."

We reached the door, and Allison set her hand on Lydia's.

"Are you ready for this?"

Leaning against the wall, I spoke,"'Cause if you're not, we could totally skip."

"Please." Lydia rolled her eyes,"It's not like my aunt's a serial killer."

As Lydia pulled open the door, I pursed my lips,"Lydia's back, but her tact isn't."

"Did she ever have any?" Allison cocked her head to the side.

Stepping into the school, I quipped,"Maybe. In the womb."

Up ahead, the girl in question had stopped walking. As we reached either side of her, I understood why. Every single student - and some teachers - had stopped to stare. Sensing my friend's discomfort, I failed to bite my tongue.

"Wow, 'cause none of you are obvious or anything!"

At this, some students had enough sense to sheepishly avert their eyes, though most continued to stare. Growing increasingly uncomfortably, Lydia twitched, her leg moving backwards as though she was going to make a run for it. Sharing a glance with me behind her back, Allison leaned in and spoke quietly.

"Maybe it's the nine pounds."

At this, Lydia straightened. Shoulders back, chin up, she flicked her long curls over her shoulder and strode forward confidently.

As we moved to follow, our steps seeming to echo in the dead silent hallway, two unlucky students chose that moment to whisper Lydia's name.

Coming to a stop in the middle of a crowd, I slowly rotated to face them, tilting my head to one side.

Behind me, Allison chuckled. Her hands came down on my shoulders, and she steered me in the direction that Lydia had gone.

"Stop unsettling students."

"But it's fun." I pouted.

"For you!" She laughed.

"Hey, you doing okay? 'Cause if you want me to go back there and deal with them all -" I offered as soon as we located Lydia. Giving me a small smile, Lydia exhaled,"I'm fine. I knew it'd be... yeah, I'm fine. Now."

* * *

By lunch, most of the talk of Lydia's return had settled down. The remaining percentage of the talk resulted in rumors that thankfully only proved to humor the girl herself.

In the last class before lunch, Danny invited us to lacrosse practice. Allison and Lydia both elected to sit this one out, but seeing as I hadn't seen Scott or Stiles all day, I chose to go with him.

"Are you sure you two will be okay if I go?" I asked them both, concerned mother voice in place.

"Yes, second mother, go!" Lydia laughed,"Third mother - that's Allison - is here to take care of me."

"Yes, but who will take care of Allison?" I asked with a smirk, earning a playful push.

"Go on Olivia, you don't want to miss Stiles - I mean, _lacrosse_." Allison retaliated teasingly. My eyes narrowed immediately.

"Oh!" Danny chuckled as he leaned in, conspiratorial,"Is this happening now?"

"No!" I was quick to exclaim. Too quick, I knew. "No, no, I mean - yeah, _no_."

"Okay, I've missed something else." Lydia held up her hands,"And I most definitely need to know what it is."

"Oh, it's nothing." Allison grinned wickedly, folding her arms. "It's just, Olivia's the cutest panda Stiles has ever seen."

Groaning, I hid my burning face in my hands,"Why do you hate me?"

"You know, I did notice something at the hospital." Lydia began,"There was... touching."

"Oh, my God!" I shrieked, my face officially the colour of my own hair. Grabbing Danny's arm, I pulled him down the hallway,"Goodbye!"

Danny continued to lightly tease me as I walked him to the boys' locker room. As he disappeared outside, and I promised to meet him on the field, I leaned back against the wall for a moment.

Pressing my cold hands to my flushed cheeks, I couldn't help but think; _what would they all say if they knew about the kiss?_

The thought caused more heat to blossom across my face, and I whined, rolling off the wall and heading out into the cool air.

Most of the lacrosse players were on, or at least by, the field. A good portion of onlookers had gathered on the bleachers, and as I made my way over to them, I walked right passed Jackson.

And then doubled back.

"Heard about your nosebleed." I stated, standing behind him. The boy craned his head back to raise his eyebrow at me, and I took a moment to politely smile at the boy he'd been talking to. Cute, but not my type.

Some part of my brain reminded me his name was Matt Daehler.

"Kind of disappointed that I didn't cause it."

To my surprise, Jackson snorted,"Thanks for the concern."

"You have as much concern from me as _Lydia_ does from _you._" I said pointedly. Watching his jaw clench, I narrowed my eyes and turned to Matt, who had started speaking.

"I don't think Jackson is capable of concern - unless it's for his car."

"Or his hair." I added, reaching out to purposefully mess up the gelled up quiff Jackson was so fond of.

"Just get me what I asked for." Jackson grumbled, pushing my hand away from his head. He stood up and walked off, leaving me to shake my head and laugh.

"He can give it but he doesn't really like taking it."

Matt chuckled,"So, you're here to watch lacrosse practice?"

"Danny brought me. I'm..." I trailed off, spotting Stiles running towards me. As he drew nearer, his hand shot out to grab for mine.

"I'm being dragged away. Bye!" I called back to Matt, stumbling to keep my footing as Stiles barely slowed down.

"What's up with you?" I breathed a laugh when we stopped beside Scott. Seating myself beside Scott, Stiles on my other side, I stared at them.

"I told coach you're switching with Danny for the day." Stiles informed his best friend.

Scott frowned,"But I hate playing goal."

"Remember when I said I had an idea?" Stiles asked with a nod,"This is the idea."

"Oh..." Scott nodded too, slowly. He paused for a moment,"What's the idea?"

A scoff came from Stiles,"I seriously don't understand how you survive without me sometimes."

Waving my hand, I drew the attention to myself,"Yes, hello, kinda got dragged into this conversation mid-way. Also, good morning to you guys too. What's going on?"

"We were talking about locking up Scott for the full moon in the locker room." Stiles began to explain,"Remember those chains we bought and then never used?"

"Yes."

"We're going to use those."

"Kinky." I commented, purely for the reaction I knew I'd get. As expected, Stiles's eyes went wide and he began to splutter, while Scott only looked surprised for a moment before throwing his head back to laugh.

"Anyway," Exclaimed Scott pointedly,"While we were talking, I sensed another werewolf."

This caused me to stop smirking. Instead, a thoughtful expression formed on my face,"There's another werewolf in this school?"

"You don't sound very surprised." Stiles noted, causing me to shrug.

"Beacon Hills isn't that small. It's not like we're the only ones with secrets around here." I said,"So I take it that our current order of business is to find said werewolf?"

"Which leads me back to my original point." Stiles began,"You said it'd help if you got close enough. That's why I told Coach that you're switching with Danny for the day."

"Because it gives you reason to run towards the player, so that you can defend the goal." I mused.

Stiles beamed at me,"She gets it."

Rolling his eyes, Scott stood up at the sound of Coach's whistle.

"Okay, let's do this."

* * *

As the boys settled on the field, I stayed seated on the bench. I watched as Scott was scolded for not so subtly getting close to each player by literally tackling to the ground, wincing every time the sound of someone slamming into the grass reached my ears.

"Okay, I'm pretty sure Stiles didn't mean_ that_ close." I noted, letting out a little squeak and covering my eyes when Scott barreled towards Danny.

As soon as the sound of them crashing down stopped, I uncovered my eyes and grimaced,"Oh, Scott, there's getting close and then there's what you're doing. In fact, I'm pretty sure that that level of close means you're married in some cultures - and I look like I'm talking to myself. Oh my God! _Are you sniffing Danny_?"

Scott's eyes found mine, and I swore that I saw a hint of amusement in then as he stood and helped Danny up. I glanced over to Stiles, seeing that Coach had hooked his fingers into the side of his helmet. Coach walked to the edge of the field, stopping so close by me that I flinched when he blew on his whistle.

"McCall!" His voice barked,"You come out of that goal one more time and you'll be doing suicide runs till you die. It'll be the first ever suicide run that actually ends in a suicide. Got it?"

Scott ducked his head,"Yes, coach."

"Uh, coach, my shoulder's hurting." I heard Jackson say,"I'm gonna - I'm gonna sit this one out."

I barely glanced at him as he came to sit beside me.

"What's up with McCall?" Jackson asked.

"Oh, he's just a little bit -" I stopped mid-sentence, my eyes frantically beginning to search my surroundings, looking for whatever it was that had struck me as odd.

Brown eyes landed on the player who had been behind Jackson. He was hunched forward, his hands clenching around the lacrosse stick. By the way his shoulders were moving, his breaths were coming hard and fast. Looking behind him, I met Stiles's eyes, his expression mirroring mine.

It was _Isaac_.

"Is there an end to that sentence?" Questioned Jackson, causing me to turn to him. I grabbed my bag and stood up, not bothering to look at him as I moved away.

"You're smart, think of one."

Leaving Jackson behind, I skirted around Coach and tried to inconspicuously inch towards the field. I wasn't sure what I was planning to do, but I wanted to be within reaching distance if the situation went downhill.

"It's him, Scott." I mumbled underneath my breath, and earned a nod from the werewolf himself.

Coach blew his whistle, and Isaac lunged.

I held my breath as I watched it all happen. Isaac seemed to move at a speed I had never seen from him before, but Scott matched it easily.

Bodies collided, and I heard a few gasps at the audible crack of muscle hitting muscle. Both boys collided in mid-air, falling to the ground and rolling into defensive crouches. Then they simply stared.

"Coach Finstock!" A voice called out, breaking the silence. My head snapped around, astonishment colouring my face as I locked eyes on Sheriff Stilinski.

Coach jogged passed me, and at the first motion towards Isaac, I met up with Stiles on the edge of the pitch.

"Why is your father here?"

"That's what I was wondering." Stiles licked his lips,"He's looking at Isaac. I'll distract him, you check on Scott and Isaac?"

"Deal." I nodded, giving his arm a squeeze before jogging off towards my friends, who were still crouched on the pitch.

Isaac was clearly startled by my arrival, and he tried to shield his yellow eyes from me when I bent down beside them. Meanwhile, Scott's yellow eyes turned to blink at me.

"Okay, sorry to interrupt this dramatic reveal moment, but I'm pretty sure we have trouble." I rushed out,"So the whole 'grrr' thing needs to go."

"Don't tell them." Isaac whispered, almost rocking back and forth. Realizing that he was scared, I reached out and gently laid my hand over Isaac's. He flinched at first, and I nearly removed my hand until he finally turned to meet my eyes, reminding me very much of a lost little boy.

"Hey, it's okay." I said.

"Do you know how to control it?" Scott asked, causing Isaac to shake his head.

"I don't know how to control any of it."

"Okay, stand up." I ushered, rising to my full height and waiting for them to do the same. Scott leveled his gaze on Isaac.

"You need to focus on something. Take deep breaths, and focus on something that calms you down."

"I don't know what to focus on." Isaac breathed, clenching his fists.

"Focus on us." I advised. Taking a peek over at Stiles, I watched as he quickly lost the battle of distracting his father.

Scott and I patiently helped him to calm down until finally, yellow gave way to blue, and Isaac seemed to catch his breath again.

"Isaac!" Coach called, beckoning the boy over.

Swallowing thickly, Isaac flinched when Coach called his name again, before he quickly scurried towards the Sheriff.

Scott's hand landed on my back as he guided me off the pitch, and away from the whispering students who were all glued to the Sheriff.

Stiles returned to us,"Dad wouldn't tell me anything. What's up?"

I eyed Scott, folding my arms over my stomach. I could feel my stomach twisting as Scott's brow furrowed.

"Scott..." I softly urged,"What is it?"

"His father's dead." Came Scott's reply,"They think he was murdered."

My hand rose to my mouth,"Oh, my God."

Looking up towards Isaac and the Sheriff, I watched as the Sheriff gently placed his hand on the back of Isaac's shoulder.

"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Stiles asked, drawing my eyes to his. We shared a second long glance before we both turned back to Scott.

Scott frowned,"I'm not sure, why?"

"Because they can lock him in a holding cell for 24 hours," Stiles explained.

"Overnight?" Scott asked for clarification.

"During the full moon," Stiles confirmed.

I shrugged lightly, watching the Sheriff lead Isaac towards the police cruiser,"This is his first one."

Scott licked his lips, lowering his voice even more,"How good are these holding cells at holding people?"

"People, good," Stiles hesitated. "Werewolves, probably not that good."

"Stiles," Scott began. "Remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?"

"Yeah."

Scott shot a look towards Isaac,"He does."

Chewing on my bottom lip, I ran through the last ten minutes in my mind. Isaac was a werewolf. Sweet, nervous, Isaac Lahey.

It had clearly only happened recently, probably in the last few days, meaning he had met whoever had turned him -

My hands shook with the realization, and I located my phone, unlocking it with a curse, and earning myself a glance from Stiles.

"What are you doing?" He asked, causing Scott to turn towards me too.

"Calling Derek." I replied, tapping in his number so fast that I messed up, and had to start over.

"Why?" Questioned a confused Scott.

"Think about it." I exhaled harshly,"Isaac's new to this, that's obvious. Meaning he only turned recently, and the only two werewolves to be around him recently are you - who definitely didn't turn him - and Derek." Finally correcting Derek's number, I hit the call button and rose the phone to my ear, still talking to Scott,"You really think it's a coincidence that Derek saves Isaac only for him to full on teen wolf a few days later? I'm gonna bet that there was more of a conversation than simply '_hey, thanks for saving me_' and '_Oh sure, no problem. Just your friendly neighborhood Derek Hale_'."

Something in my tone must have alerted Stiles - perhaps it was the way I spat Derek's name through gritted teeth - and the boy reached over, slipping my phone from my hands. To my exasperation, Stiles hung up.

"Stiles!" I snapped, causing Stiles to jump at my tone.

Reaching out, Stiles placed his free hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Look, I'm all for watching you lecture Derek, but maybe we should just think this all through for a minute."

My eyes slid towards his hand, and Stiles gulped, slowly removing it.

"Are you going to hurt me now?"

Narrowing my eyes, I reached out and snatched my phone back.

"No," I huffed, pouting. "You're not my intended victim today."

Allowing myself a deep, calming breath, I sheepishly reached out. Unsure of what I was intending to do, I settled for tugging lightly on the front of Stiles's jersey.

"Didn't mean to snap at you." I mumbled.

The sharp blow of Coach's whistle interrupted whatever Stiles was going to say, but he shot me a lopsided grin, and I took another deep breath, returning it.

Scott cleared his throat.

"Okay..." He said slowly. "So what's our plan now?"

"Alright everyone!" Coach barked. "Lunch is over! Get to class!"

Sliding my arms through their own, I began to lead them back towards the school.

"Now, we go to class, and figure all of this out."

* * *

As expected, Mr. Harris wasn't exactly happy to see me once I strolled in. Hiding a barely suppressed smirk, I resisted the urge to send him a petulant wave.

The man simply glared at me as I took my seat right beside Stiles and Scott.

"Why would Derek choose Isaac?" Scott was the first to speak.

"Peter told me that if the bite doesn't turn you, it could kill you," Stiles informed. "And maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving."

"Well it definitely didn't kill him." Relief suddenly washed through me, as well as another spike of anger towards Derek. I had so many questions, so many things to yell at him, and I tightened my grip on my pen, trying to calm down. The last thing I needed was to get kicked out of class (_again_) for letting my temper get the best of me (_again_).

"Doesn't being a teenager mean your dad can't hold him?"

Stiles shook his head in response to Scott,"Well, not unless they have solid evidence. Or a witness."

This caught my attention.

"So like, a neighbor," I checked to make sure Mr. Harris wasn't looking before sliding around on my seat,"Danny! Where's Jackson?"

"In the principal's office talking to the Sheriff." Danny answered easily, going back to his textbook.

"What?" Stiles whispered,"What does Jackson have to do with this?"

I lowered my voice,"Because his house is right across the street from Isaac's."

"Witness." Realized Scott.

Tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, Stiles nodded swiftly,"We gotta get to the principal's office."

"Done," I agreed. I hadn't planned on getting kicked out of class for the second day in a row, and truth be told, I was a little hesitant about doing so. But Isaac needed our help, so I leaned in closer.

"How are we going to do that?"

"I'm pretty sure Mr. Harris would just send us if we asked nicely." Scott joked.

I laughed quietly, and watched as Stiles tore a sheet of paper from his notebook, crumpling it up in his hand. Understanding dawned on me, and I couldn't help the smirk that appeared.

"Are you going to throw that?" I asked, hoping the answer was yes.

Holding the paper ball out for me, Stiles grinned,"I was going to let you do it."

Pressing a hand to my heart, I pretended to be choked up.

"Stiles, Christmas was last month," I squealed,"This gift is so unexpected."

Stiles laughed,"Just don't let your crappy aim ruin this."

The smirk slid from my face, and I grabbed the paper ball - and promptly threw it at Stiles's face. It bounced off his nose, and landed with a gentle thud on the desk.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, and I smiled sweetly, leaning my chin on my hands.

"I'd say my aim is pretty good, don't you think?"

At the sight of my batting eyelashes, Stiles opened his mouth to retort. Scott chose that moment to pull us back on track.

"Guys, principal's office," He whispered pointedly. "Remember?"

Nodding, I let out a delighted giggle and picked up my paper ball.

"Everyone please turn to page 73," Mr. Harris turned towards the board, and I knew it was the perfect opportunity.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this." I promised. Rearing my hand back, I carefully aimed - and side eyed Stiles as I did so - before putting enough force into the throw so that it soared through the air, hitting Mr. Harris square on the back of the head.

The paper ball fell to the ground, bringing all of the chatter down with it. Silence filled the room, as everyone glanced at each other, trying to suss out who had thrown it.

Mr. Harris turned, slowly. Fury sparkled in his light eyes.

"Who in the hell did that?" He demanded to know, his eyes landing on the three of us.

We reacted. Stiles pointed one finger towards Scott, and the other towards me, whilst Scott pointed at Stiles and myself. I, in turn, pointed towards the two of them, each of us wearing masks of innocence.

Mr. Harris sent all three of us to detention, blissfully unaware of the victorious smiles we shared.

* * *

The hallway was quiet as we waited. Well, Stiles and Scott waited.

I _paced_. Back and forth, up and down the hallway, unable to sit still for longer than a minute. My mind was still racing, and the sound of my own shoes clicking against the linoleum flooring was enough to irritate me.

Derek had turned Isaac, but _why_? The obvious answer was that Derek was in need of a pack. After all, what good was an alpha without his pack?

But why had he chosen Isaac? Had it been a simple case of Isaac being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or had Derek planned it? Had Derek even given him a choice, and if he had, what did he say that made Isaac say yes?

After all, power may have been enough for many people to jump straight into lycanthropy, but a quick glance at the cons should have been enough to sway anyone. Sure, werewolves were strong. Fast, capable. But they also lived with a beast inside of them, so full of rage and so hard to control.

A beast that ran the risk of escaping at any time, shifting the person it once was into a creature that could only focus on the hunt, on the attack.

Sighing, I took out my phone again. I had calmed down enough to know that I wasn't going to hurl abuse down the phone to Derek, but damn was he in for some serious sarcasm.

I shot a quick glance to Scott and Stiles. The former seemed to be focusing on the floor, a dark look on his features, whilst the latter lazily flipped through some outdated magazine.

"Hey, Der," I began, causing their heads to whip up. I held out my hand to pause them. "So, your new puppy friend is kinda, a little bit, in police custody right now because his father is kinda, a little bit, dead! Might wanna call me back before I go nuclear, okay, bye!"

I hung up then, letting my message rest in Derek's voice mail. Finally flopping down into the seat beside Stiles, I leaned my head on my hand.

"What's wrong, Scotty?"

Scott looked at me, the dark look that had been there giving way to resignation. He rubbed his hands over his face.

"I can hear everything that Jackson is saying," He sighed heavily. "Isaac was being abused by his father."

I sat up straight, my mouth dropping open. For a moment, I simply stared before I closed my mouth, and slumped back in my chair.

"How did I not - How did we -" I struggled. "I should have seen the signs. Startles easily, fear of being touched... the boy came in with bruises more often than not, and he blamed it on lacrosse - _how did I not see it_?!"

Stiles had set the magazine down on his lap, and was now stroking my back in comfort,"You were busy with so many other things."

"I sat next to him for weeks, how did I miss it?" I groaned, mentally crawling back through the countless occasions that should have raised every single flag there was.

"It's not your fault." Stiles implored. Exhaling loudly, I clenched my jaw.

"Is it bad that I'm glad he's gone?" I asked. Shaking my head, I felt my eyes well up with tears. "Abusing your own child - " I cut myself off, unable to find the words to explain the amount of disgust I felt.

"It makes you a hell of a lot more thankful for your own parents, doesn't it?" I finally finished.

Neither of the boys mentioned the slight shine in my eyes, and instead, Scott gave me a small smile, and Stiles continued to stroke my back until my eyes were once again dry. All I could think of was someone hurting Lucy in such a way, and the anger replaced everything else.

I was glad, that if Isaac had been the killer, that he had finally gotten his own back.

Guilt flooded me immediately. That was _no_ way to think. If Isaac had killed his father, then he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. Taking someone else's life, no matter who they were, couldn't be an easy thing to live with.

And if he did find it easy, if he felt no remorse or guilt, then we'd have so many more problems than what we had now.

Shaking my head as if to clear it, I took another deep breath. There were still answers that we needed to get, and I wasn't about to decide on anything before we got all of the facts.

Isaac could still be innocent.

Finally, a distraction came when the door to the office opened. Jackson stepped out first, actually looking surprised to see us there. He simply rose an eyebrow at Scott's scowl, before walking away, back to class.

The Sheriff stepped out next, and Stiles flailed. He removed his hand from my back, and used it to bring the magazine up in an attempt to hide himself behind it.

Unable to help myself, I giggled.

The Sheriff shot us a pained look, rolling his eyes. As though playing along with a child in the middle of a game of peek-a-boo, the Sheriff simply nodded at both Scott and I.

"Hi, Scott. Olivia."

I smiled at the man.

The Sheriff let out another sigh before he shook his head and walked away.

"A plus hiding skills." I teased, nudging Stiles's knee with my own. "Really subtle."

"Oh shut it." Stiles chuckled, his cheeks turning pink. He set down the magazine,"I panicked."

"Mmhmm."

Scott chuckled, shaking his head softly. The three of us sat up a little bit straighter when the door to the office opened, and the principal stepped out.

I was sure that none of us hid our shock very well, if the smirk on the man's face was anything to go by.

Gerard stood in the doorway, his eyes squinting at us in a way that could only be described as the cat catching the mouse.

"Kids." He greeted us, motioning us towards his office. "Come in."

* * *

Once inside the office, I eyed the door as Gerard closed it behind us. There were two seats in front of the desk, and I none too gently pushed both boys into them, having no desire to sit down.

Being uneasy around Gerard apparently wasn't a one time thing.

However, Gerard simply grabbed another chair from the corner, and brought it over to me. We locked eyes, and with a quick glance towards the boys, I sat down too.

Once Gerard took his seat, he leaned forward, clasping his hands. My eyes found the name card on the desk, traveling over the letters that spelled **PRINCIPAL G. ARGENT**.

"Now -"

"Where's the old principal?" I spoke before I even realized it, though I was still glad my voice was steady.

Gerard simply chuckled,"Chris told me that you were the type to get straight to the point."

"Did he now?" I smiled sardonically back, blinking.

"The old principal... well, he wasn't fit for the job anymore." Gerard replied slowly. "I won't bore you kids with the details."

"Oh, no, please." I stopped him,"Bore us. I insist."

Scott, who was sitting next to me, reached out with his leg and nudged my ankle in warning. His eyes were clear. Don't bait him.

Biting my tongue, I sat back.

"Scott McCall," Gerard began, reading from a file,"Academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athlete."

He moved onto Stiles,"Mr. Stilinski. Oh, perfect grades but little to no extracurriculars. Maybe you should try lacrosse."

"Oh, actually I'm already –"

Gerard raised a finger,"Hold on. McCall. You're the Scott that was dating my granddaughter."

The room fell silent. Scott struggled to speak.

"We were dating but not anymore. Not dating, not seeing any of each other or doing anything with each other– At all."

I winced.

Gerard, however, smiled.

"Relax, Scott, you look like you're about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth."

"Just a hard breakup," Scott sighed, shifting uncomfortably.

"Oh, that's too bad. You seem like a pretty nice kid to me." Gerard's words, though seemingly kind, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. One quick look towards my friends told me that they felt the exam same way.

"And Olivia," Gerard moved on, reading from my file. "Great student. Transferred from Modesto, did you?"

"Yes."

"Teachers said you were brilliant, but you missed a lot of time -"

"And the reasons for doing so has already been discussed, in length, with Ms. Morrell and the old principal." I stated. "It's not an issue anymore."

"No." Gerard agreed,"I seem to have hit a nerve."

"No nerve." I shrugged calmly. "I just don't see the point in discussing my life in Modesto, when none of it has to do with why we're here right now. Do you?"

Gerard regarded me for a moment, before he broke into a smile.

"Now listen, guys," He began. "Yes, I am the principal, but I really don't want you to think of me as the enemy."

"Heh," Stiles breathed a chuckle. "Is that so?"

Gerard ignored him. "However, this being my first day, I do need to support my teachers. So unfortunately someone is going to have to take the fall and stay behind for detention."

I glanced at the two boys. Really, our plan had ended at getting to the principal's office. We hadn't discussed who was going to take the fall for it. Scott was looking at Stiles, who rolled his neck, and gave Scott a look that clearly said; _really, dude?_

Stiles glanced at me, then, and I rose my eyebrows, silently offering to take the blame instead.

He quickly shook his head, causing me to frown. I opened my mouth to speak, and Stiles gave me a hard look.

I closed my mouth.

"It was me." Stiles said, once his face had softened towards me. He put on his best regretful expression, exhaling.

"I was messing around, and I threw the paper ball. I meant to hit Olivia, but I missed."

"You meant to hit Olivia?"

"Because I threw one at him first." I interjected, unwilling to let Stiles go down on his own. Scott opened his mouth, probably to try take some of the blame too, and I nudged him hard.

My message was clear; Scott was _not_ getting detention today.

Stiles, meanwhile, was running his tongue over his bottom lip. I knew he was probably irritated with me, for throwing myself under the proverbial bus.

"Only because I provoked her." Stiles cut in again,"I started it all."

"Stiles -"

"Alright, Mr. Stilinski," Gerard cut in. "I'm afraid I'll have to give you a detention today. Go talk to Mr. Harris, I'll let him decide when and where."

I almost groaned at that. If Mr. Harris could, he'd put Stiles in detention until he was eighteen, and leaving school.

The phone beside Gerard rang, and Gerard dismissed us. As we left, I overheard him answering the phone with a 'Hello, Victoria'.

"Guess I'll go talk to Mr. Harris." Stiles shrugged as we walked down the hallway. I pinched his arm.

"Why didn't you let me take half the blame?"

"And get detention?" Stiles asked. "Have you ever _had_ detention?"

"Well, no -"

Stiles nodded swiftly and began to walk again. Unwilling to let his point be made, I caught up.

"But it's just sitting in a room for a little while, how hard could it be?"

Scott remained silent, and with a pleading glance from Stiles, Scott set his hand on my shoulder.

"What about your parents? Wouldn't they lose it if you got detention?"

"Mom wouldn't." I argued,"Besides, what's the Sheriff going to say?"

"Oh, probably just '_again, Stiles?_' and leave it at that. In case you haven't noticed," Stiles was grinning a little bit. "I'm a delinquent."

"Oh, I've noticed." I teased back, and then shook my head. "Wait, no, I still don't see why you have to suffer through God knows how long with Mr. Harris. Alone."

"Olivia, remember what happened during Scott's first full moon?"

"He said a lot of things, broke through handcuffs and went on a nice, slightly destructive, stroll through Beacon Hills." Scott ducked his head, and I reached out, placing my hand over his. "Oh, it's fine, we're all over it now. It's okay, Scotty."

The boy smiled at me, and tipped his chin back up.

"Right, and it took the two of us to get through the night," Stiles reminded me. "Scott needs help with this. Isaac's going to struggle, and last time... last time, you were the one who coped when Scott..."

"Stiles..." Scott looked pained.

"No, buddy," Stiles shook his head, clasping his hand around Scott's free hand. "It wasn't you. But in the moment," Stiles sighed. "In the moment, it was tough. To Olivia, it was like water off a duck's back."

He turned back to me. "If anyone can handle a moody teenage werewolf, it's you."

"Hell, you've handled a moody adult werewolf plenty of times in the past." Scott pointed out with a grin.

"Don't remind me of Derek," I warned. "Because he's still on the list."

"Oh God, not the list." Stiles joked, earning himself a playful shove.

"I will need the help," Scott admitted. "I can do all the physical stuff. If Isaac feels any of what I did, we don't want him getting too close to you. But you were right earlier. You've talked to him more than we have. He'll trust you."

"That trust is for later," I stated, slipping into mission mode. "First, we need to get him far away from that police station. Too many people, too many risks. How long did it take for the symptoms to set in with you, Scott?"

"I felt strange all through the day, but it didn't really start until sundown."

"Okay, that gives us a few hours." I nodded.

"How are you going to break him out of the station?" Stiles asked, and I grimaced.

"Still working on that plan. If anyone has a suggestion, feel free to pipe in at any time now."

There was silence. I rolled my eyes.

"Great," I folded my arms, and glanced at my watch. "We should get back to class."

"Wait!" Scott called as Stiles and I began to walk. We both hurriedly turned around.

Scott had his face tilted up, searching the air for something that our senses couldn't detect.

"What is it?" Stiles questioned.

Scott took in a deep breath, and exhaled after a moment.

"Derek."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hazy**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you, everyone! We broke 100 follows! x**

* * *

With Stiles heading back to class, Scott and I quickly made our way through the school, pushing through the small crowd of students that had suddenly appeared.

"Sorry!" I called back to one unfortunate boy that Scott only narrowly avoided colliding with. The boy simply shrugged it off, and I tightened my grip on Scott's hand as he dragged me through the halls.

We reached the front entrance to our high school, and slammed down on the handles, throwing the two doors open and coming to a stop at the edge of the concrete steps.

"Isaac," I breathed, eyes locked on the police cruiser that was pulling away from the school. I had had no idea that the boy was even still in the vicinity of the school, having believed they had carted him off to the station instantly.

Apparently not.

As the cruiser drove away, Isaac turned and looked at Scott and I. I thought I saw a plea in his eyes, and tried my best to muster a smile.

When the cruiser pulled off, I turned to Scott.

"You said Derek was here."

"He was, I..." Scott trailed off, his eyes scanning the parking lot. "There!" Scott pointed.

Sure enough, Derek's familiar sleek black car rolled up, filling the empty space that the cruiser had previously occupied.

The tires screeched a little bit with how fast Derek hit the breaks. Window rolled down, shades in place, Derek addressed the two of us.

"Get in."

Scott was the first to speak.

"Are you serious? You did that," He stated, in disbelief. "That's your fault."

"I know that," Derek sighed in frustration. "Now get in the car, and help me."

"No," Scott refused. "I've got a better idea. I'm going to call a lawyer, because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon goes up."

"Oh, you need a lawyer?" I piped up. "Funny, I think I know one of those. I happen to call him Dad. Considering that he and the Sheriff go back, he can have Isaac out by dinner time."

"Not when they do a real search of the house," Derek rolled his eyes, intentionally going silent, prompting us to prod.

"What do you mean?" Scott was the one to question.

"Whatever Jackson said to the cops, what's in the house is worse," Derek admitted, gravely. "A lot worse."

"We can't go now," I said, glancing back towards the school. "We still have a few hours before everything blows up. If we leave school now, people will notice. _Gerard_ will notice."

"Fine," Derek huffed. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Meet at my house after school. We'll go then," I decided. "I want to sort this as quickly as possible too, but we shouldn't be gathering unwanted attention when it can be avoided."

"Olivia's right. At most, Isaac will be moody," Scott recalled his own first full moon. "He won't get dangerous until later."

"I'll keep an eye on the station anyway," Derek said, revving his engine.

Without a parting glance, Derek rolled up his car window and drove off. Scott glanced at me, a smirk on his face.

"What?" I asked, heading back into the school.

"Never thought I'd see the day where you actually wanted to stay in school."

Laughing, I shoved him towards our next class.

* * *

Of course, Stiles wasn't too happy with our plan.

Absolutely fine with _breaking into_ Isaac's house, it was the mention of Derek being there that caused him to fall into a mood.

Scolding him lightly as he grumbled about 'stupid grumpy werewolves', Scott and I bid Stiles goodbye and good luck. Stiles simply waved us off with a jerky flailing of his limbs as he headed for detention.

We arrived at my house, and sure enough, Derek's car was parked right outside. Both my mother and my father's cars were missing from the driveway, and I blew out a breath of relief.

At the sight of Derek's car, Scott seemed to have doubts. It was me who moved first, hurrying towards Derek's car, and hoping it would prompt Scott to move too.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Scott rushed up behind me and grasped my wrist. " A few hours ago, you were ready to strangle him."

"Haven't entirely ruled it out yet," I muttered, casting a frosty glance towards the older werewolf. Just because I wasn't making a fuss didn't mean I had completely forgotten my issues with him before.

"Scotty, listen, he obviously saw something at the house," I pleaded. "If we want to get Isaac out, then we need to know what we're getting into."

"He could be lying -" Scott began, and I knew then that Scott's doubts was Stiles's influence.

"He could be sitting right here," Derek interjected with a roll of his light eyes.

"- You still trust him after this?" Scott asked, his brows furrowing.

I stared at my friend, and then turned my head and met Derek's eyes. At first irritated, Derek was now intrigued, waiting alongside Scott for my answer.

Looking away quickly, I let the question hang in the air unanswered. However, what I did next must have answered the question for me, as I opened the door, and slid into the backseat.

Scott stared at me for a minute before sighing. He shook his head and climbed into the front seat, his jaw clenched as he refused to look at Derek.

Derek, on the other hand, smirked. Reaching into the front, I grasped his shoulders.

"Thin ice, Hale," I warned. "Don't push it."

Sitting back, I watched the back of Scott's head, willing the boy to understand. My unwavering, unexplainable trust in Derek Hale had always been a point of contention in our group, and I knew neither Scott or Stiles were likely to understand it any time soon.

I was angry at Derek for his actions. Incredibly so. And yet, I still trusted him. I trusted that we were safe with him, and I hoped that the boys trusted that whilst I believed in Derek, I wouldn't tolerate his transgressions either.

As the car journey continued, Scott's frosty demeanor seemed to melt some. We parked a little ways away from Isaac's house, and due to the amount of attention the house had received in the last twenty four hours, Derek suggested it best we sneak in through the back.

This, I learned, meant climbing a wall.

"Yeah, no, I think I'll stay here on lookout," I said, backing into one of them.

Scott laughed as my back hit his chest, and he set his hands on my shoulders.

"It's not that high," He promised, eying the wall. "It'll be easy."

"Says the werewolf," I mumbled, groaning softly. "Fine, let's do this."

Shaking out my arms, I watched as Scott climbed quickly. He took a running start, and used the fence for momentum. Grasping the edge of the wall, Scott pulled himself up into a seated position, with one leg swung over either side.

Knowing he was waiting to help me up, I pouted back towards Derek before making my way over to the fence.

"Now would be a really good time for my balance to be perfect," I sent a prayer towards the sky, and climbed up onto the fence. Scott scooted towards me and extended his hand.

"Just jump and take my hand."

"Do you want me to die?" I asked, earning a laugh from Scott.

"Olivia, I'm not going to let you fall," Scott promised. "Stiles would kill me."

His comment made me fall silent, and I focused all of my attention into his hand. I moved cautiously so I was stood on the very edge of the fence. And then I jumped.

As promised, Scott caught me and effortlessly pulled me up.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Don't make me push you off this wall," I laughed, gripping the edge of the wall.

Derek appeared on my other side, and I felt a flush of embarrassment. It was ridiculous, I knew. Scott and Derek were werewolves, I was human, and not a very good climber.

"Okay, I'll jump down first," Derek said. "Scott, you make sure no one's around. Olivia, you jump down and I'll catch you."

"Good idea," I chirped, glancing down at the drop to the ground below us. "Don't really feel like breaking something today."

Scott nodded at his order, and jumped, landing in a perfect crouch.

"That's just showing off," I remarked, and saw Scott flash me a grin before he disappeared into the shadows of the garden. I turned back to Derek.

"You better catch me."

Derek grinned,"You're the one who still trusts me."

I pointed my finger at him.

"Only just," I warned. "I'm still mad at you for all of this, so if you drop me, I'm going to be _really_ pissed."

"Just jump."

For whatever reason, I closed my eyes as I scooted towards the edge of the wall - as though that would help ease the pain of my inevitable meeting with the grass.

Pushing off the wall, I clamped my mouth shut to keep the squeal from escaping, and only opened my eyes when I landed in outstretched arms.

"Told you I'd catch you," Derek teased and I narrowed my eyes.

"You want a medal?"

Derek's arms went slack, and a shout escaped me. I scrambled, clamping my hands around his neck to keep myself from falling.

I scowled when Derek laughed, and set me safely on the ground. Jabbing my finger against his chest, I stalked off towards the house.

"That wasn't nice!"

Scott was the one who opened the patio door for us, and I stepped into the darkness. Something was shoved into my hand, and switched on. As the light flickered through it, I realized it was a flashlight.

"Came stocked, huh?" I whispered to Derek, stepping into the house.

Aside from the broken glass in the corner of the kitchen, everything in the house looked normal. Photographs littered the walls, and there were bookshelves upon bookshelves in the living room.

It was silent for a good few minutes until my phone began to ring.

"Olivia!" Derek scolded, and I fumbled to pull my phone from my pocket.

"Sorry, I thought it was on silent!" I answered,"Hey, mom, listen -"

"Why are you whispering?" Mom asked.

Blinking, I cleared my throat and spoke a little louder.

"No, I wasn't," I tried. "It must be the connection."

"Hm," Mom made a noise on the other side of the phone. "Maybe."

"So," I began slowly. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was just wondering where you were. You were supposed to be home hours ago."

"Right, I, uh..." I grimaced. "I'm at Scott's. I'm helping him with his homework, I thought I told you."

"You didn't."

"Funny, I definitely told... someone..." I placed my hand against my forehead. "Well, that's where I am."

"And Scott's there? With you?"

"Of course mom," I forced a laugh. "Why? Do you want to say hi? Because you can, because he's right here next to me."

Grabbing Scott by the wrist, I shoved the phone towards him.

"Hey, Mrs. Wright!" Scott called brightly, and I pressed the phone back to my ear.

"See? So, we're probably just going to continue with this, and then watch a movie or something."

"Okay, I'll keep some dinner for you, just in case," Mom's voice lost the suspicious tone. "Good luck studying."

"Thanks, mom. See you later," I called brightly, and then hung up with a sigh. "Homework, movie, breaking and entering. Just your typical teenager stuff, mom."

My comment caused Scott to chuckle, and I even caught Derek grin a bit before he turned away.

"Isaac didn't kill his father," Derek said, waving his flashlight towards the stairs.

"You wait until now to tell us?" I asked, at the same time that Scott questioned.

"If Isaac didn't kill his father, who did?"

"I don't know yet," Derek shrugged. "He came to me last night, after it happened."

"But how do you know he's telling the truth?" Scott asked.

"Because I trust my senses," Derek stated. "And it's a combination of them. Not just your sense of smell."

At Derek's pointed words, Scott grew sheepish. He scratched the back of his head.

"You saw the lacrosse thing today."

"Yeah," Derek raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. Scott winced.

"Did it look that bad?" He looked to me for an answer.

Pursing my lips, I ducked my head and made to follow after Derek, who took it upon himself to call back an answer.

"Yes!"

* * *

Derek led us through the house, and we followed along silently until he came to an abrupt stop at the door to the basement.

"You wanna learn?" He asked, tossing Scott a look. "Let's start now."

"What's down there?" Scott pointed his flashlight at the door quickly before locating the handle and pulling it open.

"Motive." Derek answered simply.

With a concerned expression, Scott began to make his way down the steps. I hung back and whined.

"Descend into the creepy basement? Is this the part where we get murdered?"

"Not today," Derek nudged me through the door.

"That's comforting," I said, snarky.

"What am I looking for?" Scott inquired as he turned and took my hand, helping me maneuver my way down into the dark basement.

"Thanks, Scotty."

"Follow your senses," Is all Derek said as he joined us at the end of the staircase.

Waving my flashlight around, I eyed everything the beam touched carefully. It all seemed normal, just like the first floor of the house had. Boxes, old toys, freezer chest in the corner.

Beside me, Scott bent down. I positioned the flashlight over his shoulder, illuminating whatever it was on the floor that had caught his attention.

Marks along the wooden floor panels. Scott spread his fingers, and ran them along the long, thin marks.

"Nails?" I asked.

Scott nodded.

"Why would Isaac scratch up the floor?" Was my next question.

It went unanswered as Scott glanced at the freezer chest that I had barely even paid any attention to. He rose up, and walked over.

Following along closely behind him, I provided the light as Scott touched the padlock on the edge of the freezer.

"What happened down here?" Scott's voice was more serious than I had heard it all day.

"The kind of thing that leaves an impression," Derek stated, coming to stand at the other side of Scott. "Open it."

And Scott did.

A strangled gasp filled the silence that had descended, and with a start, I realized that the horrified sound had come from me. The interior of the freezer chest said every single thing we needed to hear.

Nail marks covered every inch of the chest, and with another start, I realized they were too wide to be the sharp indents left behind my claws. These marks had been made by human nails, and the dried blood left behind made my heart break in half.

Unable to look at it anymore, I lowered my flashlight and walked over to the staircase. With a hand pressed to my turning stomach, I sank into a seated position on the second last step, hanging my head.

"This is why he said yes to you," Scott whispered, finally shutting the horrific freezer chest.

"Everyone wants power," Shrugged Derek.

"If we help you, then you have to stop," Scott demanded, anger lacing his words. "You can't just go around turning people into werewolves."

"I can if they're willing."

Derek's flippant reply caused me to scoff,

"Did you tell Isaac about the Argents?" Challenged Scott. "About being hunted?"

"Yes, and he still asked."

"Then he's an idiot," Scott stated, and I had to agree.

"And you're the idiot dating Argent's daughter," Derek countered, causing Scott to blink in shock. Even I tipped my head up - they had been careful.

"Yeah. I know your little secret," Continued the older man. "And if I know, how long do you think it's gonna take for them to find out? You saw what happens to an omega. With me, you learn how to use all of your senses. With me, you learn control. Even on a full moon."

As Derek spoke, he grabbed Scott's wrist. Holding it up, we all watched as Scott's claws made an appearance. I glanced out through the small window, eying the rapidly darkening skyline.

"If I'm with you..." Scott began, his voice soft. Lost, almost. Hopeless, maybe. "... I lose her."

"You're gonna lose her anyway," Derek commented. "You know that."

Sensing my friend's eyes on me, my gaze turned and locked with Scott's. He was waiting for me to say something, to pipe in and admonish Derek for saying such a thing.

"You sound so sure," Was all I managed to give, but Scott seemed relieved that at least one of us was still in his corner.

"That's because I am," Derek shot back, and I rose from the steps.

"Let me guess," I said, walking over to them once more. "There's a story here."

"Not one I'm going to tell," Derek huffed in my direction. A moment of silent passed, with Scott staring at the freezer, deep in thought.

Derek obviously believed that Scott's silence meant that it was no deal, and he turned, his arm brushing against mine as he began to walk out.

"Wait," Scott broke the silence, stalling him. "I'm not part of your pack, but... I want him out. He's my responsibility too."

"Why?" Derek questioned, eyebrows raising almost mockingly. "Because he's one of us?"

"Because he's innocent," Was Scott's reply, and I nodded, taking a step to the side and placing my hand over Scott's.

The boy turned his hand beneath mine, and carefully threaded his fingers through mine, mindful of his claws against my skin. I squeezed his hand, and Scott squeezed it back, and for one brief moment, I felt relief.

* * *

Once we had all agreed that helping Isaac was our number one priority, we quickly got down to the planning.

It was during that time that I found myself genuinely missing Stiles. Derek and Scott were smart in their own rights, but for this plan, we didn't needed more than just smart.

We needed guile.

It didn't help that the full moon had pretty much completely risen, and the effect it was having on Scott was growing more and more obvious.

Scott had begun to pace, and he had already snapped at Derek once. His claws had been repeatedly appearing and retracting, and his shoulders had long since hunched. Stress was beginning to mount as the minutes ticked by, and I could tell that both werewolves were growing antsy.

"We could..." I began, trying to lighten the mood. "We could lead Isaac out with a squeaky toy."

"He's not going to wag his tail," Derek side-eyed me, the amusement clear.

"What if I rub his tummy? Scratch behind his ear?"

A loud crash sounded from beside me, and the shock of it caused me to leap up from the stairs. A stack of empty boxes had been shoved over by Scott, who was leaning against the wall and breathing heavily.

"Scotty, those boxes didn't do anything to you," I joked nervously, feeling Derek's hand slide around my wrist.

"Do you ever stop talking?" Scott growled, and the tone of his voice caused a shiver to rip violently up my spine.

"When I'm asleep," I quipped. "Sometimes."

"That right there is exactly why I can't understand how anyone puts up with you!" Scott snarled. "You never once just _stop_ talking!"

"Yeah, alright," I clucked my tongue, ignoring the sting of his words. "I'll let that one slide because it's the full moon."

I cautiously stepped forward, towards Scott. Derek's grip on my wrist tightened momentarily, and I glanced over my shoulder at him. Nodding slowly, my reassurance seemed to work, and Derek let go of me.

I moved towards Scott one step at a time, testing him. By the way his shoulders were moving, I knew that Scott was attempting to calm himself down, taking in deep breaths. Just like Isaac had that very same day.

"It's okay, Scotty," I whispered. "You can fight it, just breathe."

In a moment of blind trust, I let my hand brush his shoulder. In a flash, Scott had turned, and had pushed me back. I gasped as I landed, feeling something tear into the skin of my arm. Scott's yellow eyes blazed into my own brown ones, and in a horrified moment, he looked as though he was about to lunge.

Derek was between us faster than it felt like. He shoved Scott away, and pushed the boy against the wall, holding him by the shoulders.

"Don't hurt him," I pleaded, holding my bleeding arm in my free hand.

"Go upstairs," Derek ordered me, and I hesitated.

"Scotty," I called to the boy who had hung his head. "Scotty, it's okay."

"I'm so sorry," Came Scott's heartbroken voice, and I felt tears burn at my eyes.

"It wasn't your fault," I spoke steadily, though the soft sniffle gave me away. Scott met my eyes, and I knew he thought that my upset was coming from the small cuts the fall had left.

"Scott -"

"Call Allison," He said. "She can... she can calm me down. She - she can stop this."

"Are you crazy?" Derek barked.

"No, he's not," I defended. "He's right. She can handle him."

"You two have to go to the station," Scott breathed heavily. "Get Isaac out. You can do it."

"Go upstairs," Derek repeated to me. "Call Allison. I'll be up in a minute."

Glancing towards Scott again, I fought to give him a small smile before turning, and heading up the steps.

Once upstairs, I set about inspecting my arm. The cuts weren't too deep, and the blood was slowing. It was a case of looking worse than it was, and though I knew it needed to be cleaned and patched up, I didn't want to risk leaving behind any evidence.

I took out my phone and dialed in Allison's number, noting that I had five missed calls from her. Once she picked up, I informed her of what had happened, and asked that she bring some supplies to bandage up my arm.

"I'm on the way," The girl promised, before hanging up and leaving me in silence. For a few minutes, I stood by the window, hidden partially by the curtain.

A shadow passed the window, and my heartbeat sped up until my message buzzed with text.

Allison was outside, and needed to be let in.

"Did anyone see you?" I asked, stepping back and letting her in quickly.

"No," Allison answered. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just a scratch," I said, taking the supplies from her.

Behind us, the door to the basement opened, and Derek appeared.

"How is he?"

"He's fighting it," Derek answered Allison. "But it just proves that we need to get Isaac out, and fast."

"I second that," Allison nodded. "That's why I kept trying to reach you earlier. Dad and Gerard kept asking me all of these questions about Lydia, and how she was bitten by Peter."

"What?" I felt my stomach drop. "But she's fine! She's not a werewolf."

"Apparently they're not so convinced," Sighed Allison. "They sent a guy out."

"For Lydia?" I exclaimed, and Allison rushed to add.

"I called Stiles, and that's how I found out you were at Isaac's. I told him that the guy was dressed as a Sheriff's deputy."

"He's out for Isaac," Derek grunted.

"That's what Stiles said. He's on his way to the station right now," Allison informed. "Harris only let him out a little while ago."

"We need to get to Isaac before that hunter does."

"Hurry!" Allison called out after us. "He was sent out with wolfsbane. He's going to kill Isaac if he gets to him before we do. I shot him in the leg with an arrow, but... I don't know if it was enough to stop him. I think I just slowed him down."

"That's good. It gives us time. Ali," I paused. "Are you sure you'll be okay with Scott?"

"I'm sure," Allison nodded. "Go, save Isaac."

Nodding briefly, I followed Derek out. We reached his car, and I poured half the bottle of water over my cuts before I climbed inside, and began to wrap it.

"You're really okay with leaving her alone with Scott?" Derek asked as we drove.

"She calms him down, and he'd never hurt her," I glanced at Derek. "Why? Do you not trust him?"

"I didn't say that," Derek was quick to deny. "I'm just surprised you do."

I simply shrugged.

"It's Scott," I explained softly.

"The same Scott who gave you that," He shot a look at the arm that I was taking care of.

"No, not the same Scott. Scott would never do something like this voluntarily," I stated firmly. "It was an accident."

"An accident that could have been prevented if he learned how to control his powers."

"Derek -"

"Do you trust me?" His question was sudden, as was my answer.

"Yes," I spoke truthfully. "But Scott doesn't, or at least he isn't sure. If he decides to accept your help, it'll be his choice. I'm not influencing him."

There was a moment of silence, until I reached over and smacked Derek upside the head.

"Hey, I'm driving!"

"Oh yeah, like you're going to crash," I scoffed. "That was for what you did to Isaac. Don't make me regret trusting you, Derek."

Derek remained silent, and perhaps, I should have taken that silence as a reason to be worried. Instead, I focused on wrapping my arm. Once it was bandaged right, I pulled my sleeve back down.

Unable to sit through the silence, and fresh out of suitable conversation topics, I reached for my phone, and called Stiles to see if he'd reached the station.

"Hey!" The boy answered after the first ring. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, what about you? How was detention?"

"It was a never ending Hell, but I almost wish I was back there rather than doing this."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Wait, so running around town trying to bust out a newborn were-pup isn't your idea of a good time?"

"Heh, hell no," Stiles chuckled.

"That's a shame, cause it's totally mine," I joked.

"Give it time," Stiles teased. "I'll convince you that my idea is better."

"Promises, promises."

Beside me, Derek cleared his throat pointedly, and I shook my head.

"Uh, so, are you at the station?" I asked casually.

"No, not yet," Stiles answered. "But I'll make it there faster than you."

"Okay, meet us at the grocery store down the road from the station. Derek and I will get into the Jeep from there. I don't think Derek's car parked outside the station will be as covert as we need it to be," I explained.

"Roger that," Stiles quipped. "See you then."

* * *

As Derek swung his car into the empty spot besides the familiar blue Jeep, Stiles cracked a smile at me through the window.

He had been leaning against the Jeep, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers, and I swallowed thickly, unsure as to why I had to.

He leaned forward and pulled open the door of the passenger side, and I gave him a thankful smile as I unbuckled and climbed out, trying unsuccessfully to shield my injured arm.

"What the hell happened?" Stiles demanded to know, concern creasing his features.

"It was an accident," I assured. "He didn't mean to."

Stiles's expression turned hard until he shook his head, and gave me a gentle smile.

Before he could speak, I made for the Jeep and climbed into the back.

"Now come on. If we're not quick, a scratched up arm is going to be the most mild of injuries tonight."

Stiles and Derek made no sound as they climbed into the front seat. We drove in a more comfortable silence, which ended as soon as Stiles pulled up right outside the station, behind a police cruiser.

"Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lock box in my father's office," Stiles informed. "The problem is getting past the woman at front desk."

"I'll distract her," Derek decided.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa–you? You're not going in there," Stiles said, grabbing Derek by the shoulder and effectively halting him. Derek eyed Stiles's hand, and the look in his eyes caused me to laugh.

"I'm taking my hand off," Stiles said quickly, removing his hand at the same speed.

"I was exonerated," Derek went on. "I can go in there."

"You're still a person of interest," Argued Stiles.

"An innocent person."

"An–you?" Stiles was amusingly in disbelief. "Yeah, right!"

Derek simply glared.

"Okay, fine," Stiles relented. "What's your plan?"

"To distract her."

"Uh–huh. How? By punching her in the face?" Stiles feigned the motion of punching someone. "Unh."

"Well it would catch her off guard," I pointed out, and then shrunk back when they both turned to blink at me. "I'm not saying do it! I'm just saying it would distract her!"

"I'm going to distract her," Derek rolled his eyes. "By, shock horror, talking to her."

"Okay, all right," Stiles nodded. "Give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?"

Derek remained silent.

"Dead silence," Stiles cheered. "That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"

"I'm thinking about punching you in the face," Derek remarked, and I leaned forward.

"No one is punching anyone," I warned. "Besides, I have an idea."

"I bet it's better than his," Stiles grumbled.

"Thank you," I replied. "Anyway, why don't you go in there and, oh I don't know, flirt?"

"You want him to flirt with her?" Stiles questioned,"Really? Him?"

"He doesn't have to be a Casanova, Stiles," I rolled my eyes. "Just... flash her a smile. Be nervous. Girls like that."

"Girls like... who?" Stiles scratched the back of his head.

Frowning in confusion at him, I turned back to Derek.

"Just go be charming," I advised. Looking him up and down, I nodded.

"I mean, if you ask me, it's a pretty safe bet that you'll catch her eye."

There was silence.

"From a purely objective standpoint on my part, of course," I rushed to add.

Derek blinked at me, and then turned, opening the door of the Jeep and climbing out. He disappeared into the station.

"Did you just call Derek hot?" Stiles questioned, looking as though he was torn between amusement and irritation.

"No, I - Well, okay, I mean, I'm not blind," I said. "But, he's not my type."

"Oh?" Stiles questioned, suddenly intrigued. "What is your type?"

In a move that was more confident than I thought I could manage, I leaned in flirtatiously.

"Stiles."

"Yeah?" The boy licked his lips.

"We have a job to do."

And with that, I flashed Stiles a grin and climbed out of the Jeep, thankful for the cool air that hit my warm face.

Stiles seemed to recover fast, and with a sly grin, he met me at the front of the Jeep. He took my hand in his, and led me towards the station. Glancing around, he leaned in through the doorway, and I did the same.

"Um, I had a question," Derek was saying, flustered. "Um, sorry I'm a little–a little thrown. I wasn't really expecting someone–"

"Like me?" The woman rose her eyebrows, almost challenging.

"Oh, I was gonna say 'so incredibly beautiful' but, yeah, I guess that'd be the same thing," Derek complimented, and I placed my hand over my mouth.

"Oh, really?" Stiles scoffed, and I nudged him.

"Sh, he's acing this."

"Really?" Stiles scoffed again, this time at me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Come on," Stiles ushered, slipping his hand to my lower back and nudging me into the station. With the deputy's attention taken up by a grinning Derek, we slipped by the front desk easily.

Weaving through hallways closely behind Stiles, the only thing I felt was the floor underneath my shoes and the slight stinging in my arm.

Until we turned the last corner to the Sheriff's office.

Creeping up the back of my neck was a twinge, and anxiety filled me. Before I could warn Stiles, however, he had turned the corner.

"Oh, sh-" I heard him say, before his words were muffled by the sounds of struggling.

I pressed my back up against the wall, and told myself to breathe as I weighed my options. I could go after Stiles with little to no ability to help any, or run back and find Derek, trusting Stiles to hold his own.

The sound of the alarms made my decision for me. Smiling at Stiles's genius, I ran back the way we came, and crashed into a hard body.

For a moment, panic settled over me, and I wondered if the Argents had sent another hunter. The panic dissipated when Derek's voice reached my ears.

"It was the hunter," I said, turning on my heels and leading Derek down the hallway. "He grabbed Stiles, he didn't see me."

"They're at the holding cells," Derek informed me, and I nodded, following the sign on the wall.

"He's not going to hurt Stiles, is he?" I asked nervously.

"He might not have the chance," Derek said. "Isaac's there too."

Derek's words made me run faster, and I skidded to a halt when we reached the holding cells. Isaac had pushed the hunter up against the wall in the time it took us to reach them, and was very forcefully slamming the man's head into the wall.

Unconscious, the hunter's limp form fell to the ground, and Isaac turned around slowly.

My eyes went to Stiles, who was on the ground and taking cover behind a desk.

"Derek, the syringe!" I called out, pushing the werewolf towards it as I made a run for Stiles.

The sound of Derek breaking the syringe by stomping on it wasn't enough to distract Isaac from my sudden movement. I realized later how my quick bolt might have appeared as a threat.

Isaac began to stalk towards me, and I realized that what happened with Scott was happening all over again.

Until Derek stepped forward, and let out a roar that threatened to shatter the glass windows.

The noise caused Isaac to stumble back, and I felt my heart break at the sound of his whimpering as he cowered, curling into a ball in the corner.

Extending my hand to help Stiles up, I blew out a relieved breath.

"Thanks for that. I've had enough of werewolves lunging at me today," I turned to Stiles. "Are you hurt?"

"Just in my pride."

Smiling, I let go of his hand, and looked back at Isaac.

His whimpers had grown quieter, but his shoulders were shaking, and his arms were still covering his face. In that moment, he really did remind me of a frightened puppy.

"How did you do that?" Stiles asked Derek as we stepped towards him.

"I'm the alpha," Was Derek's reply, and I scoffed at his attempt at being macho.

"Again, do you want a medal?" I snorted.

"He can't stay here," Stiles said, bringing our attention back to Isaac.

"You're right," I nodded.

"He trusts you," Stiles whispered to me, before squeezing my uninjured arm.

Getting the message, I slowly approached the frightened boy. Recalling the horrors we had witnessed at his house, and Scott's reaction to my touch, I maintained a safe enough distance as I bent down in front of him.

"Isaac?" I called softly.

The sound of my voice so close caused him to jump, and I jumped along with him, rocking back on my heels.

Unlike Scott, however, Isaac uncovered his face, and simply stared up at me. He made no move to attack, and no move to speak. The fear in his blue eyes melted any strength I had.

"You're okay," I soothed. "You're safe now."

Slowly, so as to not startle him, I held out my hand. I wasn't holding out too much hope that he'd take my hand, so I couldn't hide my surprise when he did.

Pulling him up with me, I wrapped one arm around Isaac's waist, and rubbed his back in a form of comfort.

"I'm sorry," He choked out, staring down at the hunter's still unconscious form.

"He's alive," Was Derek's attempt at comfort.

"It was self defense," Was mine. I glanced towards the door quickly. "We need to get you far away from here, though, and fast. Derek can get you out."

"You should go too," Stiles said. "You can meet me at the Jeep once Derek leaves with Isaac, and I'll drive you home - but you shouldn't be here when my dad gets here."

"What?" I asked. "Why not?"

"Because dad will be less likely to question it if it's only me at the scene of trouble," Stiles admitted wryly.

"You need to stop taking the fall for me," I told him, and he smiled.

"Oh, I'll be cashing in on these moments later on, don't worry."

I laughed, and promptly left with Derek and Isaac.

* * *

I walked with Isaac back to Derek's car, and after making sure they both knew to call me if Isaac needed anything, I said my goodbyes and made the short walk back to Stiles's car.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, climbing into the passenger seat and causing Stiles to jump.

"So, how did your dad react?"

"Oh, I expect a lot of yelling and lecturing in my future," Stiles groaned, rolling his neck. I pouted sympathetically.

"Sorry," I began. "If it makes you feel any better, we had a somewhat successful day on the flip side."

"Oh yeah?" Stiles asked as we hit the road, his lips quirking upwards in a smile.

"Yeah! Isaac is free, we knocked one of the Argent hunters down a few pegs, and no one got hurt," Stiles's eyes flashed to my arm, and I relented. "Severely."

"Since when are you an optimist?" Stiles teased me, and I poked out my tongue.

"I don't know, but let's just enjoy it."

"You want to go to Isaac's and see how Scott and Allison are holding up?" Stiles asked, chuckling.

"Oh God yes," I confirmed.

"Knew it."

Feeling more carefree than we had in a long while, Stiles and I enjoyed the car journey to Isaac's, using it wisely as our time to relax after the stressful day we had endured.

We should have expected it not to last.

"Stiles, what the hell is that?" I shouted as something darted across the road in front of the car.

"I have no idea," Stiles breathed, hurriedly parking behind Allison's car.

Jumping out of the car, I sprinted across the grass and towards the obliterated front door, no longer caring about any nosy neighbors.

"Scott! Allison!" I called into the house.

"Olivia!" Stiles caught up to me, and caught me before I could dash into the house.

"We're here!" Scott called, startling us both.

Allison appeared next to him, looking utterly terrified as her grip tightened noticeably around the handle of a knife.

"Is everyone okay?" I asked, rushing towards my friend and gathering her in a hug.

"What happened?" Was Stiles's question as he joined me, and clapped Scott on the back, as if assuring himself that his best friend was standing there in one piece.

Scott shook his head, his gaze returning to the broken front door, confusion flooding his face.

"I have no idea."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hazy**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. I'm also very sorry for the time it took for this to be posted. To make up for it, I give you an extra long chapter. :)

* * *

That had been a few days ago.

Once Allison had stopped shaking, she recalled enough to give us a vague description of what had spooked her so badly. The word reptilian was thrown around quite a good bit, setting us all on edge.

We hadn't heard from Isaac or Derek in a few days, which seemed to set all three of them on edge. My constant assurance that Isaac was safe with Derek was only met with furrowed brows.

At times I too worried about my trust in Derek, wondering if maybe I was wrong, and he really was as unstable as Stiles was trying to make him out to be. Other times, I snapped that Stiles was way too invested in painting Derek as the bad guy.

As the days went by, we simply stopped discussing Derek at all. Or maybe, the boys just stopped talking about him whenever I was in earshot.

I didn't mind. I trusted Derek in my gut, and I was sticking to that. Instead, I decided to focus on Allison's reptilian friend. We hadn't stayed in Isaac's house very long, as we heard sirens approaching. The neighbors, we assumed, had heard the commotion.

That morning, I was sat on the floor of the library with an array of books spread out in front of me. Perhaps I should have been more subtle about it, but I figured that anyone who might have seen me would simply chalk it up to me being myself.

The library books weren't very good for my research, only containing basic mythological reptilian humanoids. I read through as much as I could find, from the Glycon - a snake god who had the head of a man - and the Kappa, which were turtle-like humanoids from Japanese mythology.

"Ah yes, turtles are terrifying..." I mumbled, shaking my head. Pushing my hair back from my face, I glanced at the clock. Knowing I only had a few minutes before gym class started, I sighed and began packing away the books.

Finding something useful in them was clearly not about to happen.

"Hey! I knew I'd find you here," Allison greeted, sitting on the floor beside me. "What is all of this?"

"Useless," I replied. "I was trying to put a name to the scaly face you saw the other night, but apparently, high school libraries aren't that well stocked in this area."

Standing up, I scooped up the pile and went about returning the books to their rightful place. Allison followed along behind me, seemingly wanting to say something. However, no words came, and I glanced at her.

"Cat got your tongue?" I asked, my voice light, but my eyes concerned.

Allison bit her lip, and looked around, as if she was checking for any eavesdroppers. She hooked her arm around my arm, and pulled me towards the back of the library.

"Oh, God, is this bad?" I groaned as she pulled me to a stop.

"Not as bad as it's going to sound at first," She started as I folded my arms across my chest, "but to anyone who isn't us, it will sound completely insane."

"I'm listening."

"I got kidnapped last night."

After the words left her mouth, Allison rushed to clasp her hand over my mouth. She had clearly seen how my eyes had ballooned to twice their normal size, and how my mouth had dropped open as I prepared myself to exclaim something.

Instead, all that came out was a muffled cry of surprise.

"Don't freak out!" She whispered. "Just let me explain."

I nodded to show her that I'd listen, but as soon as her hand left my face, the words that had been muffled came pouring out once more.

"You got _kidnapped_?!"

"It was a test!" Allison spoke over me, hoping to calm me down. "By the hunters. It's supposed to be part of my training. My dad was the one who set it up."

"Okay," I spoke slowly. "In the category of Parental Problems, I gotta say that you win all of the rounds. Your father _kidnapped you_?!"

"For training."

"_Why_?!"

"Apparently it's something they all do," Allison explained. "They take you somewhere, tie you up, and then time you to see how long it takes for you to free yourself."

"Okay, as crazy as it all sounds, that actually sounds like a pretty adequate test," I said, frowning slightly at how, absurdly, it made sense.

"It was terrifying at first," Allison admitted. "They didn't take the bag off my head until I was tied up, and then all I knew was that I was in the Hale house. Dad was across from me, tied up too. It was supposed to scare me."

"That would scare anyone."

"Once I knew what was happening though, it was actually okay," She said. "Of course, I wanted to strangle my father at first, but then it was kind of fun, trying to see how fast I could get myself out."

"So, how did you do?" I asked.

"I got out in two and a half hours. But the hunter who was timing me said I beat him; it took him three hours," Allison told me proudly.

"Hey! Go you!" I cheered. "There's nothing like upstaging grown men."

Allison laughed at that. Finished putting away all of the books, I linked my arm back up with Allison just as the bell began to ring. We headed for the library's exit, slipping into the crowd of students easily.

"You would have liked him," Allison stated. "The hunter. He was cute. Seemed like your type."

"Well, cute is my type," I laughed. "You know what isn't my type? Gym class."

"Aw, really, I thought you two were a perfect match," Allison joked.

"It's too clingy for my tastes," I said, pursing my lips. "It's so sad, but I don't think we'll ever work out. _Ever_."

"It's rock climbing today," Allison reminded me as we stepped into the locker room. I immediately groaned, causing the strawberry blonde in front of us to laugh.

"You'll have a harness, Liv," Lydia said, her hands on her hips. "So at least you won't fall off of it."

"Of course I won't," I said, beginning to change into my gym clothes. A simple black tank top and a pair of floral gym shorts. "For all you know, I could be really good at rock climbing. My signature move is growing wings, and... no, I am not ready for gym today."

Lydia giggled, patting me on the shoulder as I bent to re-lace my sneakers. "Well, at least you'll provide some entertainment."

I grinned up at her,"Ah yes, I knew I was good for something."

* * *

"Why is rock climbing even apart of the lesson plan. When am I going to have to climb rocks? Do I look like someone who spends her time climbing rocks?" I asked no one in particular, watching as Scott and Allison climbed their way to the top of the wall.

Turning away from them, I jumped as the shrill sound of Coach's whistle assaulted my ears.

"Wright!" Coach called, as though I wasn't directly in front of him. "You're up next! With Joey."

My face dropped. Glancing over at the boy who very nearly ruined the Winter formal, I turned back to Coach.

"It's like you hate me," I glared.

Coach, as though he hadn't heard me, simply walked off. Heaving a sigh, I folded my arms and risked another glance up at the wall above me. Scott had just been shoved off by Allison, and Coach was too busy laughing to notice that I hadn't moved forward.

"You'll do fine," A voice said, and I looked across to see Stiles as he came to stand beside me. "Hey, when you're up there, you can knock Joey down."

"So much faith in me," I laughed. "You think I'll get high enough to push him down."

Sighing again, I placed my hands on my hips and eyed the climbing wall once more. "Well, if I'm going to die, at least I'll look cute doing it."

Stiles's eyes trailed over my body, and he sheepishly blushed when his eyes met mine. Clearly embarrassed at being caught, Stiles scratched the back of his neck and coughed.

"Well, I can't argue with that."

I opened my mouth to speak, only to jump when Coach's whistle blew in my ear again.

"Wright -"

"_Okay_! I got it!" I exclaimed, rubbing my ear. "God, do you sleep with that thing at night? Is it your safety blanket? I bet it is!"

Approaching the wall, I glanced to the side and saw that Joey was already resting a leg on one of the rocks.

"Hey," Joey said.

"Hi," I replied curtly, before turning my attention back to the harness. Coach double checked both my harness and Joey's before blowing the whistle again.

"Really?" I rolled my eyes, grabbing hold of a green rock, and pulling my body upwards.

To no one's surprise, Joey was faster. Though towards the top, he slowed down, coming to a stop completely. This wasn't unusual; Scott and Allison had stopped for a chit chat halfway up too.

However, with the memory of the dance in my mind, I didn't want to talk to Joey.

"Whatever it is you want to say," I breathed when I arrived at the same height. "Do yourself a favor, and _don't._"

"I'm sorry."

I huffed.

"Advised not to speak, and yet he speaks anyway."

"I know I embarrassed you, and maybe even scared you a little bit -"

"I wasn't scared," I scowled. "I was actually contemplating whether or not to break your face."

" - But I had a few drinks," Joey continued. "I know it's not an excuse -"

"Oh, it doesn't even resemble one."

" - but I want you to know that I really regret it, and I am really sorry."

Clenching my jaw for a moment, I sighed. Shaking my head, I glanced over at him.

"Fine," I conceded. "Apology accepted. Though it's not forgotten."

"I'll take it."

"Yes, you will," I said firmly. "Because if you don't, I will break your face this time. I mean it. I won't need Jackson and Stiles."

Joey gulped at the look in my eyes. "I believe it."

Smiling sweetly, I batted my eyelashes. "Good."

"Are you guys going to climb or gossip?" One of the lacrosse players called out, and I turned to shrug at him.

"We're going to gossip. In fact, Joey here just told me something very interesting about you, Eamon. I didn't think they could even _be_ that small."

"Oh, you're so funny." Eamon called back, looking more amused than miffed as he laughed along with our classmates.

"Thank you, I try." I beamed.

"Race you to the top?" Joey asked, launching himself forward.

Looking back down towards the ground, I grimaced.

"It's not like I have much to lose anyway."

* * *

Climbing down the wall was much more fun than climbing up, and within seconds, my feet were firmly on the gym mat. I undid the clasp of the harness and made my way over to my friends.

"What did Joey want?" Lydia asked, folding her arms and glaring at the boy.

I placed my hand on her arm. "No glare. He apologized."

"And you believed him?" Scott asked, sounding somewhat surprised.

Shrugging, I explained. "I didn't do it for his benefit. I accepted it because I'm over it, and I'm not putting up with his kicked puppy look every time he sees me. It gets tiresome eventually."

"I'd still keep my eye on him," Stiles grumbled.

"We all will," Allison agreed.

Conversation turned to material things then, as two more students made their way up and down the climbing wall.

Finally, once they returned to the ground, Coach stepped forward.

"Alright, next two!" Coach called, breaking through the idle chatter. "Stilinski! Erica!"

Our eyes turned to the nervous girl standing a little bit away from us. She was tall, around Allison's height with a pale face and bushy blonde hair. I had seen Erica a few times, though it seemed to be that she never wanted to be seen. Erica always kept her head down, and I had only ever heard her speak a handful of times. Truthfully, I didn't know much about her except that she was currently terrified, a fact that was clearly displayed in her large eyes.

Stiles gave her a smile as he tied the harness around his hips, and Erica struggled to return it. Putting my hand to my mouth, I made a silent wish that the girl got through this quickly and quietly, for her own sake.

After a few moments, it was clear that Erica was not able for the climbing wall. Stiles had already made his way up and down in the time it took her to get less than halfway up, and everyone waited in silence, watching.

Subconsciously, I took a step forward as soon as I saw her shoulders start to shake.

"Coach!" I called. "She's not okay."

At this, the rest of the class seemed to notice exactly what I did. Erica was shaking, gasping for breath as sobs escaped her.

"Erica!" Coach called. "Dizzy? Is it vertigo?"

On his other side, Lydia rolled her eyes,"Vertigo is a dysfunction of the vestibular system of the inner ear. She's just freaking out."

"That looks like a little more than just '_freaking out_'," I shook my head, worried.

"I-I'm fine," Erica shakily called down.

"Coach," Allison whispered. "Maybe it's not safe, you know she's epileptic."

Coach obviously didn't know this, as a look of panic crossed his features.

"Why - Why does nobody tell me this stuff?!"

"Oh, my God," I groaned.

"E-Erica, you're fine!" Coach attempted. "Just kick off from the wall. There's, a, a mat to catch you."

Erica seemed frozen to the wall, and I took a step to the side. Moving so I was beside the wall, I called up.

"Hey, just... just take a step down," I instructed softly. "It's okay, it's just one step."

Shakily, Erica began to move. She went down one, and I glanced to Stiles. Nodding upwards, my message was clear, and Stiles nodded. In a second, he was by her side, and helping me to instruct the frightened girl on where to go.

With our combined aid, Erica made it far enough down that I could reach out, and grab onto the back of her jumper.

"Now, it's just one little jump." I promised. "Then you're down and you never have to do this again."

Erica took a deep breath, and pushed off the wall for the last time. A strange mixture of amusement and relief seemed to go through the room, causing a few students to laugh. Erica's lower lip wobbled, and I knew instantly that in her head, they were laughing at her. I knew that, in some cases, it was true.

I helped her to undo the harness, and once she was free, she began walking towards the locker room, the crowd separating to let her through. I began to follow her, and continued to do so when no one stopped me.

The two of us returned to the locker room, where Erica sat on a bench and bent her head. I wasn't sure if she was trying not to cry, or already crying, so I grabbed some tissue anyway.

I rooted through my gym bag for the large flask of water I had, and sat on the bench across from her.

"Here, you should drink some of this," I said, offering it to her. Erica lifted her head, and took the flask. She took the tissue, and began to wipe under her eyes.

"You didn't have to come in with me," She sniffled.

"No one should be left alone when they're upset," I leaned forward slightly. "Unless of course, you prefer to be alone, in which case I'll -"

"No," Erica shook her head. "I don't want to be on my own."

"Then I'll stay," I smiled warmly. Erica returned the smile, a little stronger than before. She glanced down at her hands, which had yet to stop shaking fully.

"I couldn't even climb a wall. God, I'm so embarrassing."

"Not at all," I comforted. "If it wasn't you, it would have been someone else. If we're honest, it probably would have been _me_. Besides, the odds weren't in your favor. I mean, Coach paired you with Stiles," I laughed. "Have you seen him? He's like a monkey."

"He is really fast," Erica laughed shakily.

"He runs at a speed higher than the rest of us," I shrugged. "I'm pretty sure we're going to have to invest in a leash one of these days."

"At least he wasn't embarrassing," Erica mumbled, ducking her head. I exhaled.

"Look, I won't tell you it wasn't embarrassing because I know you've already decided it is in your head - and trust me, I know how hard it is to change your mind's mind," I leaned back a bit. "But I can tell you a story."

"A story?" Erica raised an eyebrow.

"Not like a fairytale or anything," I giggled. "Just a related memory, I guess, to show that I know where you're coming from. Do you want to hear it?"

Erica nodded, and I began to speak.

"Okay, when I was in fifth grade, I was weird. I mean, yeah, I'm weird now, but I was worse. Surprising, right?" I deadpanned. "Anyway, I went on this school trip to an adventure centre. I should have known beforehand that I should have faked an illness. They had all of these things like a pool, rock climbing, archery, and all kinds of other sporting things."

"Sounds like hell."

"It was," I agreed. "But I actually had a good bit of fun at the start. The archery was cool, and the rock climbing was much easier because we were all ten so we got the kiddie ones. The worse part, though, was the water sports. Especially kayaking."

I went on to tell Erica some of the tales of the day that embarrassed me for weeks. I told her about how the kayak began to veer off down the river, and how I had burst into tears in the middle of the water.

"You cried?" Erica asked, trying to stifle her laughter.

"You can laugh," I permitted. "Everyone else did. I didn't, of course. I thought it was the absolute worst thing that would ever happen to me. I honestly believed that it was going to be the only thing anyone ever remembered about me. But... it wasn't."

"It wasn't?"

"Not one bit," I shrugged. "No one even remembers that centre anymore, except for me. And you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because it didn't happen to them. They didn't get embarrassed, so they don't remember it," I explained. "And now, if one of my old friends back in Modesto happen to mention it, I just laugh it off. Because it is funny! I was sitting there, completely safe, and I burst into tears because my kayak moved. It's hilarious! But it only became hilarious once I stopped beating myself up and allowed it to be." I leaned forward again and patted Erica's hand. "And one day, what happened today is going to be hilarious to you too. No one in that gym will remember it, but you will, and you'll laugh. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but eventually, you will. I promise," I smiled. "And if anyone teases you in the meantime, just own it. You got scared? So what? You weren't the only one."

"Own it," Erica repeated softly. "How do I do that?"

"Laugh with them," I advised. "Even if, on the inside, you want to crawl in a hole and never come out again, just fake it. It'll confuse the hell out of them. After all, where is the fun in taunting someone who just laughs along with the crowd?"

I laid back on the bench, clasping my hands over my ribcage.

"Besides, if anyone says anything, I'll kick their butt. Or I'll get Scott to," I grimaced. "No, wait, he's too sweet. Lydia! I'll get Lydia to kick their butts."

Erica laughed, raising her head a bit more. Her shoulders relaxed, and all traces of tears were completely gone from her still pale face.

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

"See, that wasn't so bad!" Allison said, shoving her gym clothes into her bag. "You didn't die."

"Actually, I did," I remarked. "I am a ghost. Just call me Casper."

"You're more like Slimer from The Ghost Busters," Lydia teased, and I gasped.

"How dare you?!"

Both Allison and Lydia laughed, and I shook my head, mumbling something about the rudeness of today's youth. I had changed out of my gym clothes before the bell had even rang, leaving me ready early with nothing to do. I stood in front of my locker, using the mirror to pull my hair back into a smooth ponytail.

As I waited for Lydia and Allison to finish changing, I sat on the bench patiently, inspecting my light pink painted nails.

I sat there in silence for a few moments, listening absentmindedly to whatever Allison and Lydia were talking about, until there was a shout from outside.

"That's coming from the gym," I informed, jumping to my feet. I ran at full speed out of the locker room, and took in the scene. People were crowding around something on the mats, gasping and whispering. I caught sight of familiar green sweatpants, and quickly located Stiles at the front of the crowd.

Scott was with him, cradling someone in his arms. I placed my hand on Stiles's knee as I bent down, leaning forward to see.

"What's going on?"

"Erica's seizing," Stiles told me quietly.

"She was trying to climb the wall," Scott looked so hopelessly lost. "She wasn't even wearing a harness, she almost fell -"

"Scott caught her," Stiles finished.

Looking down at the girl, fear took over me. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, her whole body jumping and twitched uncontrollably. I tried desperately to recall anything and everything I had learned from my mother.

"Recovery position!" I exclaimed, waving my hands. "Put her in the recovery position!"

"On her side!" A voice clarified for Scott, and I looked over to see Allison standing behind us. Lydia was talking hurriedly with another student, telling him to run and get Coach. The man arrived, calling for the students to back up, and give Erica some room. I had only seen Coach so serious on a handful of occasions, and the sight was still strange to me.

He called out for someone to get the school nurse, and then, we waited.

* * *

Once the school nurse arrived, we were all herded out of the gym, and told to go to our next class. Erica was carted off to the hospital, and short of Coach coming to tell us that she was fine, that was all we heard for the rest of the day.

I spent the remaining hours of school alternating between classwork, and research. I was determined to find out what it was that Allison had seen, and what it was doing roaming the streets of Beacon Hills.

"And it didn't attack you?" I asked, my eyes glued to my phone as I scrolled through multiple pages of information.

"No. It stared at me, but then it ran once it saw Scott," Allison shrugged. "I think we frightened it. I screamed at it, and it crouched."

"Like a defensive crouch, or a scared crouch?"

"I think it was more... confused. I don't know how to explain it," Allison pursed her lips. Scott rubbed her back.

Frowning, I realized that nothing written on my screen matched up to the descriptions both Scott and Allison were giving.

"Maybe I should go to the library again..." I mused, casting another glance down at the search engine on my phone.

"Maybe you should eat lunch," Stiles suggested. Reaching over, he plucked the phone from my hands, dodging my attempts at getting it back.

"Stiles!" I exclaimed in a huff. "We need to figure out what this thing is!"

"Yes, and we can do that later," Stiles slipped my phone into his pocket. "But now, you should eat lunch, and talk with your friends. Besides, Lydia's on her way over. She'll question it if you spend the entire lunch hour on your phone."

Giving in, I turned to my lunch tray and began to pick at the food there to appease my friends. Lydia joined us, and quickly grabbed all of us up into a conversation. Halfway through, when he realized that I had settled back into the present time, I felt Stiles brush my leg with his hand.

Ignoring the jolt it sent through my stomach, I glanced down to see that he was holding my phone out to me. Taking it, I slipped it into my bag and was rewarded with a half grin, and a playful nudge.

"You can bury your little head in research later," He whispered, tossing a grape into the air and catching it in his mouth.

"Oh, I will," I replied.

And I did. Later on in the day, leaning against my kitchen counter, I scrolled through as many web pages I could find. I had to constantly switch to a new tab, as my whole family was joining us for dinner, meaning there was constant movement, and too many prying eyes.

Finally, once the kitchen was empty for five minutes, I switched back to what I was really looking for.

"The _Lamia_," I read aloud. "_a child-devouring female demon from Greek mythology depicted as half woman, half serpent._ Well, that's cheery."

"Sounds like a really bad bed time story," A voice commented from the door, and I jumped. Once I saw who it was, the hand that had been prepared to snap my laptop closed relaxed and returned to the counter top.

"Oh, it's only you."

"Gee, thanks," Conrad chuckled. He walked around the counter, setting the bottle of wine he had brought down as he sat on one of the stools beside me.

I eyed the bottle with a grimace.

"Ugh, wine. I hate wine."

"And by that, you mean you've never had wine," Conrad raised his eyebrows. "Right?"

"Oh come on, it's me," I rolled my eyes. "I've had wine, and it tastes like sadness."

"Well, at least you're honest," Conrad said, seeing the bright side. Taking my laptop from me, he peered at the screen. "_Wadjet_, _Typhon_, _The Lizard Man of Scape Ore Swamp_ \- what is all of this?"

"Unhelpful," I grumbled. "Turns out, most reptilian humanoids are serpentine. Where are all the lizard people hiding?"

"Well, that depends on who you ask," Conrad said. "Why are you looking for lizard people?"

Taking my laptop back from Conrad, I stifled a yawn and switched it off.

"Something is in Beacon Hills," I informed him quietly. "We're not sure what, but Allison and Scott saw it. At Isaac Lahey's house."

"Lahey..." Conrad thought. "Murder victim Lahey?"

"Murder victim Lahey's son, actually. He's on the lacrosse team, and he's our friend," I said. "And he's also a newly turned werewolf -"

"Did he -"

"No," I shook my head firmly. "He didn't kill his father. Trust me, we've been down that avenue already. Our number one suspect is this lizard thing that was at the house, but we have no idea what it is, why it would kill Isaac's father - not really crying over that, if I'm honest - and why it would go back to the house?"

"You said this Isaac boy was a new werewolf," Conrad repeated. "So, where is he now?"

"With Derek Hale," I rubbed at my temples. "Though, we don't know where they are, considering we haven't heard from them in a few days. Isaac hasn't been to school either, which is probably a good thing. I just wish I knew they were okay, but Derek really likes annoying me lately."

"You sound close to him."

I side-eyed my uncle, and he held his hands up in surrender.

"I wasn't suggesting anything."

"Good, because that is entirely too weird to even think about," I admitted with a laugh. "Still, I just want to know what's happening. I haven't seen either of them since we busted Isaac out of the Sheriff's station."

"I'm not going to ask."

"You probably shouldn't," I nodded.

"So, back to this lizard thing," Conrad began. "Have you found anything at all?"

"No," I sighed. "Literally the only information we have is it was a lizard in the shape of a person, and it seemed confused. I don't know, and the internet is being surprisingly unhelpful."

"Well, maybe you should forget the internet," Conrad suggested. "Hit the books instead."

"I've tried, but the high school's library isn't very expansive."

"No, but what about my library?"

My eyes lit up immediately. Sitting up, a grin stretched across my face, and my voice lowered to a whisper as though someone was going to hear what I was going to say.

"You mean, the books that dad never let me go near?" I couldn't contain my excitement. "The really big ones."

"I may have tried to leave all of that stuff behind, but I'd never get rid of my books," Conrad smiled. "Most of them are in my attic. I'll dust them off, look through them and see if I can find anything. Tell your friends that they're welcome to them at any time."

"Thanks, Conrad," I smiled sincerely.

"Aunt Via!" I heard a tiny voice call excitedly from the front of the house. I shared a grin with Conrad as I hopped off my stool.

"And that's where all talk of giant lizards end," I laughed, going out to meet Lucy at the door.

"Hey, kid," I greeted, catching her as she leaped into my arms. "How was your day?"

As we sat down to dinner, Lucy sucked in one huge breath and used it to tell us all about her day at school. She told us all about how there was a new boy in her class, and how he had shared his crayons with her.

"First crush," Jen laughed warmly.

"We're going to get married!" Lucy exclaimed happily. "Via, who do you share your crayons with?"

"Yeah, Olivia, who?" Carter laughed through a mouthful of food.

"Ugh, ew, mouth closed," I scowled at him, before smiling sweetly at Lucy. "I don't have crayons to share, Luce. It's really sad."

"Well, I can buy some, and we can share them!" Lucy beamed, and I couldn't resist affectionately brushing back her wild hair.

"That's a deal."

"Do people use crayons at big school?" Lucy asked, suddenly concerned. I was quick to nod.

"Of course they do! What else would we use?" I lied, earning a snort from Jen. "The only person who uses crayons in college, though, is Carter."

"Not true!" My brother exclaimed. "They won't let me, because I tried to eat one."

My mother heaved a dramatic sigh,"It worries me that I'm not sure if he's joking or not."

"Do you like big school?" Lucy asked me then.

"Yes," I answered honestly. "I like this one _much_ better than my old one. Though, there could be some changes..."

"Like the principal?" My father asked. Considering he hadn't uttered a word up until that point, I was a little bit shocked. I shook it off quickly.

"Yeah, sorry, dad," I shrugged. "I'm not a huge fan of your new boyfriend."

"He seems to be a fan of you," Dad said. "He said you were a very good student when I met him today for lunch."

"You went out for lunch with Gerard Argent?" I blanched. "Why?"

"Because I'm allowed to have friends," Dad answered.

"According to who?!"

Ignoring my exclamation, Dad continued,"He did tell me, however, that you were sent to the office the other day. Something I didn't want to have to learn from the principal himself."

"The dinner table is not the place, Tony," My mother said warningly.

"No, mom, it's fine," I interjected. I knew my father was trying to rile me up. It wasn't the first time. Instead of giving him the satisfaction, I laughed.

"It's pretty funny actually," I said. "Stiles and I were having a paper ball war, as you do, and it accidentally hit Mr. Harris in the back of the head."

"And why weren't you paying attention in class?" My father questioned.

"Uh, maybe because it's the exact same course work we've been doing for the past week," I answered my father calmly. "Besides, we missed more time waiting outside the office than we would have if Mr. Harris wasn't so uptight."

"You hit him in the head with a paper ball," Dad said.

"He hit my paper ball with his head."

Carter laughed then, earning a scowl from my father. He shrugged.

"What? It's funny," Carter shrugged. "Besides, from what you and mom said, this Harris guy need more than a paper ball in the head. I mean, he'll live, right? So chill, dad."

My mother cleared her throat and set her hand down on my father's. Smiling brightly, she leaned in,"So, Lucy, what do you say that you and I go and serve dessert?"

"Maybe you shouldn't sit next to Stiles in class," My father said before my mother had even stood up. "He seems to be distracting you."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, attempting a joke. "It's not his fault. I am more than capable of distracting myself."

"You know, I'm also friends with the Sheriff," Dad began, and I knew whatever he said next was going to end the game. "He told me about the date."

At this, my mother was instantly interested in the conversation again. As she and Lucy sat back down, she ignored the very pointed glare I was sending my father, and instead grinned widely.

"Oh, what's this about a date?"

"It's nothing," I said firmly. And in truth, it was. That had just been a cover that Stiles had pulled off of the top of his head. I was almost tempted to tell my father the truth, that had really been on the hunt for our friend who we thought had turned into a werewolf and was possibly responsible for mauling someone to death. That would have shut him up.

But I couldn't. I couldn't give that secret away.

An unexpected flash of anger went through me, directed at Sheriff Stilinski, a man I had believed I would never ever be even slightly irritated with. He was too gentle, too genuine. Too much like his son. But now I was mad at him, for giving away information to my father of all people.

"It wasn't a date," I said slowly. "It was a - it wasn't a real - we were hanging out."

"The Sheriff said that Stiles said the word date," My father revealed.

"Yeah, and Stiles says a lot of words," I snapped, finally losing my patience.

"Well -"

"It's not your business," Carter interrupted whatever my father was going to say, effectively putting an end to the sentence.

Slightly surprised, I eyed my brother. Usually, Carter would have jumped on the chance to tease me relentlessly. However, he was glowering at our father, knowing that he was making me uncomfortable.

To my left, Jen cleared her throat, and took a long sip of her wine.

"He's right, dad," Jen said. "It's Olivia's, and it's certainly not to be discussed over dinner."

"Especially when she clearly doesn't want to talk about it," Carter added.

I thought, then, that I saw my mother smile at all three of us, before she schooled her expression and returned to an animated conversation with Lucy, who was blissfully unaware of the tension.

I caught Carter share a look with Conrad, who winked back at him before tipping his wine glass, and emptying his glass. It seemed that they all took some sort of joy out of shutting my father down, and I couldn't help but smile too. I felt a sudden rush of affection for my siblings then and smiled openly.

Just as my father opened his mouth to no doubt scold Carter, Conrad clapped him on the back.

"So, did you catch last night's game?"

* * *

I was still smiling the next day at school. After spending a period watching a horrifically bad documentary on vaccinations, I was extremely ready to get on with the rest of my day.

I bid farewell to Lydia for the last class before lunch, and continued on down the hall, only pausing to take my phone from my bag once it beeped. There was a text from Stiles, asking me to meet him outside at the picnic tables. Shrugging, I knew I had some time before the next class, as we had been let out from the last class early, and sent him back a message, agreeing to meet him.

I got a smiley face in return.

I spotted him the moment I walked through the door. Sat on the picnic table, enjoying the shade that the branches of a sycamore overhead provided. I noticed that he looked nervous.

His cheeks were a bit flushed, and he was rubbing his hands together, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Hey!" I greeted, coming up behind him. My voice caused him to jump, and I barely contained my laughter as I moved to sit beside him.

"That's not funny, you gave me a heart attack," He smiled.

Without thinking too much of it, I reached over and tapped his chest twice,"I'm just making sure the old guy is still ticking."

"Old guy?" Stiles gasped.

"Yeah, you're very old. A whole ten days older than me," I nudged him teasingly. "Grandpa."

Stiles reached around me and pinched me in the side lightly. I jumped and grabbed onto his hand, pushing it away from myself as I laughed.

"So what are we out here for?" I asked. "Oh God, who died?"

"No one died," Stiles chuckled. "I just have an idea to pitch forward."

"I'm listening," I said, leaning back on my hands.

"Remember a few months back, when we all went bowling?"

"I do," I nodded.

"Remember when we went outside, and we talked about going ice skating, but the plans fell through," Stiles reminded me.

"Yeah, killer alphas will put a damper on plans," I joked.

"Well, I was wondering if... maybe you wanted to reschedule those plans? For tonight. Say around eight?"

And then, Stiles was back to rubbing his hands together, and his tongue was darting out again. There was a redness creeping up his neck, and for a brief moment, I compared it to the body language of someone asking someone on a date.

Then I shook my head.

"Doesn't the rink close at like, six, on weekdays?"

"I know a guy," Stiles turned his head, and his grin was cheeky. "So, what do you say?"

I considered it for a moment, and then smiled, nodding my head,"I'm in."

Stiles smiled,"I'll pick you up at eight."

Leaving Stiles at the picnic table, I headed back into the school. I still had a few spare minutes before the next class, and so I veered off towards the ladies room to check my makeup.

The moment I stepped into the tiled room, I knew something was up. There was a soft hiccuping coming from one of the stalls, and then silence, as though the girl was trying to hide her sadness and pretend she wasn't there.

Frowning, I couldn't help but check to see if the girl was alright. Approaching the door, I knocked lightly.

"T-There's someone in here," A voice sniffled, and I instantly froze.

"Lyd?" I called. "Lyd, what's wrong?"

"Olivia?" There was movement behind the door, and the sound of a lock sliding. As soon as the door was open, Lydia grabbed me by the arm and hauled me into the stall with her.

She looked like a mess. Her hair was in disarray, as though she had been running her hands through it, and her cheeks were streaked by tears. Her mascara had run, and her face was red. Whatever was upsetting her was serious.

"What happened?" I asked with furrowed brows. Lydia simply shook her head as another wave of sobs took over. Grabbing a fistful of tissue, I went to the taps and wet it. Coming back, I pressed the tissue to her face, patting from her cheeks to her eyes to her nose.

"It'll help with the redness," I told her quietly, and then went about fixing her hair as she took the tissue and began to pat her own face.

"Lyd, talk to me," I coaxed.

"I got in a fight with Jackson," Lydia finally revealed. Wiping her eyes with some dry tissue, she took a deep and shaky breath. "I have no idea what happened. He just... he just cornered me in the hall. H-He kept saying things that I didn't understand."

"Like what?" I questioned gently.

"Something about," She hiccuped, "immune, and ruining everything. He was l-like a crazy person. I've seen Jackson angry, but never like that."

As she began to cry again, she leaned her head against my shoulder. Moving to awkwardly bend down beside her, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

"What did he mean?" Lydia sobbed against me.

"I have no idea," I answered honestly. It was true. I knew that Jackson knew that Lydia had been bitten by Peter, of course, but I wasn't sure what it had to do with him. Ruining everything? What exactly was everything?

"Do you want me to go talk to him?" I asked her, and Lydia immediately shook her head.

"No," She decided. "I don't want you fighting with him too."

"Lyd, I'm _always_ fighting with Jackson," I joked.

"No," She shook her head, "I mean it. I just want a few minutes to compose myself, and then I want to go to class. Can you go and make an excuse for me? I might be a few minutes late."

Nodding slowly, I gave her another squeeze, "Yeah, I can do that."

"Thank you."

"Hey," I began, getting an idea. "Stiles wants to go ice skating tonight. Do you want to come with? I think everyone is in need of a pick me up."

Lydia agreed, seeming to perk up at the idea. I smiled. Getting up, I left the bathroom. I didn't want to leave Lydia alone, but I also knew that she and I ran pretty much the same. Both of us preferred to be alone when upset, so that we could process whatever it was that had upset us, and figure out how to deal with it.

As I entered the classroom, I spotted Jackson sitting in the corner. He seemed to be glowering at anything and everything, and my hand tightened into a fist. I wanted nothing more than to grab him by his scruff and demand an explanation, even if it meant causing a scene in the middle of the classroom.

But I had promised to respect Lydia's wishes, and so I instead took a deep breath and counted to ten. I made an excuse to the teacher for Lydia being late, and walked to my seat beside Allison. Quietly, I filled her in.

"As soon as I complete my hunter training, I'm going after him first," Allison said, her jaw clenched.

"Cool, make sure I get front row seats," I whispered back.

Class went on, and Lydia arrived almost halfway through. Gone was all traces of sadness, and when she walked into the room, her eyes instantly landed on Jackson. For a second, she faltered.

Until, that is, she spotted Allison and myself. Then, our friend flipped her hair over her shoulder and strutted over, taking her seat with us.

* * *

The bell rang for lunch, and the three of us made our way to the cafeteria. We got our lunches, grimacing at most of what was on offer, and then headed over to Scott. I was confused to see him sitting alone, until I saw Stiles across the room, talking to a boy.

I identified him as Vernon Boyd.

Taking a seat beside Scott, I grinned at him. The four of us began to discuss various things, mostly about the classes we had already endured. By the time Stiles returned, taking his seat on the other side of me, Lydia had moved on to the topic of our plans for the night.

"Allison!" Lydia exclaimed as Stiles sat. "Are you coming tonight?"

"Coming where?" Allison asked, uncapping her water bottle.

"Skating!" Lydia answered. "Olivia said Stiles wanted to go."

"I did," Stiles nodded. "I definitely did."

The tone of his voice confused me, and I glanced at him. He almost sounded disappointed, but not surprised, and it only proved to confuse me more. I looked to my other side, and noticed that Scott was looking at Stiles, his eyes sympathetic.

Stiles looked at his best friend, and raised his eyebrows as if to say 'what can you do?'.

"Yeah, sure, it sounds like fun," Allison smiled. "Scott, are you coming too?"

Scott again looked to Stiles, who just nodded, defeated. Scott sighed softly, and then smiled at Allison.

"Yeah, I'm going."

I turned to say something, suddenly overcome with the urge to cheer Stiles up somehow. Just as I thought of something to say, the entire cafeteria went quiet. Frowning, I followed the crowd's gaze to see just what had captured everyone's attention.

What I saw made my jaw drop.

"What the holy hell is _that_?" Lydia asked slowly, slapping her palms down on the table as her lips pursed.

It was Erica.

But it wasn't. Not the Erica that everyone knew anyway.

The girl who looked like Erica was strolling into the cafeteria confidently, her red painted lips twisted into a smirk. Leopard print heels clicked off the floor, the final touch to an outfit that consisted of a leather skirt, a white top and a leather jacket. Her blonde hair, usually frizzy, was curled perfectly, and her eyes were dark.

"That's not a daytime outfit," I remarked casually. Turning back to my friends, I noticed them all looking at me. Their expressions clearly said '_Really? That's what you've picked up on?_'.

"Well, it's _not_," I grumbled in defense. "But, oh, right! Unusual behavior. Got it."

"It's like she got a whole new personality overnight," Allison commented.

I agreed. I watched as Erica made her way over to a table, stopping in front of two Junior boys. They stared appreciatively as she leaned over, and plucked a shiny red apple off of one of their trays. I grimaced. I had told her to own it, but I hadn't meant for any of _that_.

"She just stole that guy's apple," I pointed out, and saw Stiles smirk beside me.

"I don't think he minds," Stiles said, and I looked at him. I watched as his eyes trailed over Erica as she turned and left the cafeteria, and felt a strange pang deep in my stomach. I gulped, recognizing the feeling.

I was _jealous_?!

"He should," I said, turning back to my tray of food, suddenly uninterested in the entire conversation. "Your five a day is important."

"Okay, come on," Scott said, grabbing me by the wrist. I stood with him, and Stiles hurried to catch up, slinging his backpack around his shoulder, and reaching out for my bag.

"Wait, where are you guys going?" Lydia asked.

We were gone from the cafeteria before any of us got to hear whatever excuse Allison came up with.

As we moved through the hallways, I took my bag from Stiles. We followed Erica all the way out to the front of the school and pulled up short at the top of the steps.

"Déjà vu," I said the moment I spotted the familiar black car. Erica turned back to look at us as she opened the passenger side door. Smirking, she climbed in. The driver's side window was down, and the man inside turned to give us a matching smirk before he revved the engine, and drove away.

"Wait, I don't..." I trailed off. "What would _Derek_ want with _Erica_?"

"Don't you get it?" Stiles gritted his teeth. "He got her too."

As Stiles turned away from us, obviously trying to put a lid on his anger, I touched Scott's arm.

"Scotty?" I questioned, and earned myself a nod.

"She's one of them now," Scott confirmed. "One of _us_ now."

A million and one different emotions went through me. Anger at Derek for making the same mistake a second time. Frustration at myself for trusting him again, and embarrassment for doing so. But what stood out the most was the hurt I felt.

I had put my trust in Derek, and he had made me feel as though I was right to. I felt tears prick at my eyes, and swallowed the hurt. I wasn't about to get upset over this. I was going to focus on the anger, and push away the hurt.

Scott must have sensed what I was trying to hide anyway, because the next thing I knew, his arm slipped around my back. Stiles was behind us, pacing back and forth and cursing under his breath. Scott's jaw was clenched, but his hand was gentle against my back. The motion reminded me instantly of Carter.

"I'm going to shove that car up his -" I began to say.

"What do we do know?!" Stiles exclaimed, and then looked sheepish at interrupting me. I waved him off, silently saying it was fine. I too wanted to know where we went from there.

"I'll handle it," Scott simply stated. Stiles and I shared a look.

Deciding to let Scott take charge on this one, we both fell silent.

* * *

My mood was noticeably sour for the rest of the day. All through the rest of my classes, I kept imagining various ways to make Derek suffer. The fantasies went from simple bodily harm to keying his car to shaving his eyebrows off while he slept.

At the end of the school day, Allison invited Lydia and I to go and study at her house. We were going to spend a few hours there, and then head to my house to get ready for ice skating. Stiles was going to pick us up, as planned, at eight.

Our homework took a few hours to complete, especially when we kept taking 'well deserved' breaks every ten minutes. At one point, Lydia and I spent a good twenty minutes taking pictures of ourselves. Allison eventually caved in and joined us for a few.

That is, until, her father arrived at the door.

"Hey, Chris!" I greeted, and then looked abashed. "I mean, Mr. Argent."

"Olivia," He nodded in greeting. He gave Lydia a smile next, and then beckoned Allison over towards the door. Catching Allison's eyes, I went back over to Lydia and began taking more pictures of us.

"Oh, that's my new favorite. I'm so posting it," Lydia grinned, and posted it to various social media sites.

Chris and Allison's hushed conversation ended, and Allison hovered awkwardly in the doorway.

"Olivia?" She called. "I'm hungry. Help me carry up snacks?"

Getting the message, I stood up from the fluffy purple chair and nodded, "Sure thing."

Lydia didn't seem concerned by us leaving, deciding to return to her English homework as we went downstairs. Allison led me into the kitchen, where we set about gathering cups and snacks. That's when Allison told me what her father had said.

"They _still_ want to keep an eye on her?" I exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "The full moon came and went, and Lydia didn't turn. When are they going to accept that she's not a werewolf and leave her alone?"

"I have no idea," Allison sighed. "He wants me to spy on our best friend. Like she's some kind of experiment, and we're waiting for the results."

I opened my mouth to say something about Lydia's apparent immunity to the werewolf curse, only to stop myself when I heard voices approaching.

"How many hunters are in your house right now?" I asked, lowering my voice.

"I have no idea," Allison replied, equally as quiet.

"Are you as uncomfortable as I am having Lydia here with them?" I asked next.

"Yes."

"Then it's sorted," I said. "We're getting out of here."

Just as I rounded the kitchen island, figures appeared at the door. Gerard stood in the front, his usual sly smirk etched onto his face. Three other men stood with him, all tall and intimidating. Their presence blocked our exit, and I took a step back towards the island.

"Oh, hello!" Gerard greeted, as though he was genuinely surprised to see me there. "Allison, why didn't you tell me you had friends over? I didn't get a chance to say hello."

"Actually, Principal Argent, we were just collecting some of Allison's books," I lied. "We're studying at my place tonight, so..."

"Oh well," Gerard extended his hands, "another time then."

Taking a chance, I headed straight for them. Gerard stepped aside, and after a moment - and a slight glare from me - the three men also moved to clear the way for me. Allison followed quickly.

"Oh, Olivia?"

"Hm?" I bit my lip, and turned back around.

"Please do tell your father I say hello."

I frowned. Big mistake. Catching sight of my frown, a smug grin spread across Gerard's face. Looking behind him, I noticed the same grin on each of the hunter's faces. They were smiling in such a way that said there was a joke, and I wasn't in on it. I hated it.

Resisting the urge to flip them all of, I swallowed my irritation and smiled.

"I'll be sure to do that."

Allison nudged me forward, and I was thankful. It was though I was rooted to the spot, but as soon as she forced me to move, I was gone in a flash. I took the stairs two at a time, as though something was chasing me. My spine tingled the whole way up.

Luckily, Lydia didn't question why we were suddenly packing up our stuff and going to my house. We grabbed our things and headed out, and I was relieved to find that my spine finally stopped tingling as soon as I was in my car.

Reflexively, I locked the doors, which earned me a raised eyebrow from Lydia. I ignored it, and once Allison was buckled into the backseat, I reversed out of the driveway, and set off down the street, leaving all thoughts of Gerard Argent behind me.

* * *

"Pink or peach?" I asked, holding up two tubes of lipstick for them to see.

"Pink," Allison and Lydia said in unison. Nodding, I uncapped the lipstick, and painted my lips with the lovely rose petal shade of lipstick.

"So, where did he even get the idea out of?" Lydia asked, rolling onto her stomach on my bed. I raised my eyebrows.

"Who?"

"Stiles," She said. "He doesn't seem like the ice skating type."

"Maybe he is," Allison began to laugh. "Maybe he's secretly a world renowned skater."

"Oh, I can just see him in a tutu," I giggled.

"Or a leotard," Allison suggested, causing me to snort.

"Both is good," I nodded with a grin. "Anyway, he got it from me actually. Months ago. Back when we went bowling, Stiles and I took a walk outside. We saw the rink sign. We had made vague plans for us all to go, but ... school ... got in the way."

"And so he brought it up today?" Lydia asked. "Why today of all days?"

"I don't know," I answered.

"Wait," She sat up. "_How_ did he bring it up?"

"Uh," I thought back, "I don't know, he just asked me to meet him by the picnic tables, and said he had an idea to pitch forward."

"Olivia, what _exactly_ did he say?" Allison asked, sitting up too.

Recalling the conversation, I told Lydia and Allison exactly what Stiles had said, verbatim. Once I was finished, both of my friends stared at each other incredulously, before they both began to laugh.

"Oh, my God, Olivia!" Lydia groaned, covering her face with her hands. She fell back against my pillows, laughing.

Allison joined her, "Poor Stiles!"

"What?" I turned around. "Why? Why poor Stiles? Am I missing something?"

"Yes, you are, dummy," Lydia threw a pillow at my head, which I barely dodged. "You're telling us that a teenage boy, got a teenage girl alone, and asked her to spend her night ice skating with him, and that teenage girl then invited all of their friends along to?"

I frowned, "Maybe."

Allison laughed again, "Olivia! You just invited all of us on your first date with Stiles!"

I instantly jumped up off of the chair I had been sitting on, waving my arms in front of me. "Whoa! Whoa! No I didn't!"

"Oh sweetie, yes. Yes, you did," Lydia shook her head.

"But I didn't!" I couldn't help that my voice rose to a higher pitch. "Stiles wouldn't ask me on a - but if there's - he and I -" I cut myself off. "No, because if he was asking me on a date, he'd say '_Hey Olivia, do you want to go on a date with me?_'." I trailed off. "Wouldn't he?"

I didn't get an answer, as my mother chose that time to knock on the door. Putting a hand to my forehead, I told her to come in.

My mother smiled at us brightly, "Stiles is here."

* * *

Oops! Olivia may have misread the signs a little bit on that one, huh? The reasons for that is, I have a plan, and that plan doesn't include their first date being at the ice skating rink.

Again, I'm sorry for the wait. I hope this chapter made up for it somehow, and I want you to all know that I'm already working on the next chapter.

I hope everyone has a nice day/night/evening/afternoon! I can't wait to hear from you all! (Hopefully most of you are sharing in my excitement that Teen Wolf returns tomorrow night!)

Until next time,

Megan x


	7. Chapter 7

Hazy

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**AN:** Hey guys! I'm back with a new chapter. I had wanted to get this up a few days ago, but scheduling chapters is not my forte. I must say, your reviews for the last chapter made me giggle. So many of you felt for poor, adorable Stiles. I would too, if I didn't know where this story was going ;)

And know, that it's your reviews that kept reminding me to sit down and write. I have the attention span of... someone with a very short attention span, and the notifications of reviews, follows and favorites are what fuel me. So, hint hint, keep that up...

And also, enjoy this chapter! I feel that most of you definitely will ;)

* * *

Behind my mother, stood Stiles. He showed no signs that he had overheard our conversation, and I silently thanked every force in the world for that. My cheeks were already hot enough.

Turning away from the door, I willed them to calm down as I gathered my stuff, shoving things into my bag haphazardly as I cleared my throat.

"Okay, well, we're ready, so let's get out of here," I cleared my throat, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

Clearly enjoying how flustered I had become, I heard Allison and Lydia giggle behind me. I shot them a pointed glare, ignoring the confused glances the action drew from my mother and the boy who had been the topic of conversation not two minutes before.

"I was thinking we could get dinner first," Stiles said. "Scott isn't finished work yet, so he's going to meet us at the diner."

"Eddie's?" I asked, my eyes lighting up. My embarrassment had been completely wiped away by the promise of my favorite diner.

"It's your favorite, isn't it?" Stiles asked, looking almost sheepish.

"Like you have to ask," I smiled, ignoring the two smirking girls on my bed. I wasn't going to glare at them anymore, convincing myself that they were just messing with me.

Stiles hadn't been asking me on a date. Had he? Shaking my head, I decided. No, he hadn't been. I would have known.

Maybe.

We each said goodbye to my mother, who waved us off with a smile. Climbing into the Jeep, I didn't acknowledge how quickly Lydia and Allison climbed into the back, leaving me to sit up front with Stiles. If anything, I enjoyed it. The front of the Jeep was a little bit more spacious anyway.

However, I had to frown at them when Lydia and Allison pulled the same stunt at the diner, cramming in so that I was sandwiched between Allison and Stiles.

There was a space left beside Stiles for Scott, who would arrive a bit later, according to Stiles. We placed our orders, and I couldn't help but laugh at Stiles as he ordered for himself and Scott.

"You two are so married," I teased.

"I know, we're adorable," Stiles joked. "We make Allison jealous."

"_So_ jealous," Allison drawled, rolling her eyes with a smile.

Conversation flowed naturally between us, and I was delighted to find that the girls had decided to give me a break with the teasing. They hadn't even commented on the way Stiles had slipped his arm around the back of my seat, as though the action was second nature to him.

What I wasn't delighted to find, however, was how hyper aware I had become of Stiles. I silently cursed my friends for mentioning the word date, because through the first twenty minutes of being in the diner, my cheeks had become a light shade of pink. Every time Stiles shifted in his seat, my eyes went to him without my consent.

And every time, Stiles would give me a smile. Not his usual smile, either, but a smile that I had been seeing more and more of lately. His eyes would soften, and his lips would turn up at the corners in the slightest of ways.

Then he would look away, and I would be left trying to stop the fluttering feeling that had set up camp in my middle.

I nearly jumped out of my seat in relief when Scott arrived. The boy was a welcomed distraction. I nearly thanked him out loud when he offered to go and get some napkins when our food arrived, giving me a chance to get away from the table too.

"I'll go... help," I grimaced at my lame excuse, and got up to follow Scott.

At the counter, as Scott collected napkins, I chewed nervously on my lip. Eying the boy beside me, I remained deep in thought. As much as I tried to convince myself that Lydia and Allison were just toying with me, there was a tiny voice in the back of my mind reminding me of the kiss at Winter Formal.

After all, people didn't kiss their friends just for the fun of it. Unless they suddenly did, and no one had sent me the memo. No, no, they didn't. Kisses usually meant _something_, and with Stiles...

"What's on your mind?" Scott asked, his voice causing me to jump.

"Hm?" I blinked. "Oh, uh, nothing. It's nothing. I think."

"Liv, I'm a werewolf," Scott whispered. "I can sense your anxiety right now."

"It's not anxiety," I said lamely. "I'm just confused about something."

"Anything I can help with?"

Scott's question caused me to smile. Looking up at him, it was hard to resist his puppy dog brown eyes, and his genuine smile. Something about Scott made me want to let out all of my thoughts in one big rush of breath. But I hesitated.

I wasn't sure if he was aware of the kiss or not. I hadn't told a soul, but Scott and Stiles were like brothers. Still, Scott hadn't made any indication that he knew, and I was beginning to believe that Stiles had kept silent too.

Still, whether he knew or not, Scott would have had some knowledge as to how Stiles felt about me. Wouldn't he?

"Well, it's just something the girls said," I paused. "I was telling them about how tonight came about, you know, the ice skating thing and... and well, they thought it was hilarious."

"Why?" frowned Scott.

"Because they thought Stiles was asking me on a date, and it was apparently hilarious that I invited everyone along with us."

Scott fell silent. For a few seconds, we stood there, at the side of the counter. I glanced uneasily back at our table, where our three friends were occasionally glancing at us, wondering why we had yet to return to our seats.

"Why would he ask you on a date?"

Scott's words caused a pang of hurt to hit my stomach, and the sheer force of it surprised me. Had I really been holding out so much hope that the girls hadn't been joking, and had actually hit the nail on the head? Apparently so.

The realization made me gulp.

"That's what I asked," I admitted, trying to make my tone light. Beside me, Scott nodded, staring straight at me.

"I mean, it's not like you two kissed at the dance or anything."

Floored, I stood there with my jaw nearly touching the floor for what felt like minutes, when in reality, it was mere seconds. Teasingly, Scott tapped the underside of my jaw, shutting my mouth. I grabbed his arm.

"You know about that?" I asked in a hushed whisper.

Scott simply smirked, before he turned on his heel, and returned to our table. Left standing there, I was forced to come to conclusion that yes, Stiles had intended for this to be a date.

And I had ruined it.

"Miss, are you okay?"

I glanced at a nervous looking teenager standing behind a till.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I waved the young boy off. "I'm just oblivious, apparently."

I headed back to the table slowly, and stopped beside Stiles.

"Did you get lost?" Stiles asked, his eyebrows raised. Amusement danced in his brown eyes, but I failed to muster a smile.

"Very," I said instead, and took my seat.

Suddenly, the plate in front of me was extremely interesting. My friends conversed around me. I added bits and pieces here and there, but truthfully, I noticed nothing.

Except for the ever present presence of an arm looped around the back of my chair.

* * *

Once we were all sufficiently stuffed, we headed for the rink. As expected, the entire building was dark, having been closed for the evening hours earlier.

Just as Lydia was about to ask how we were supposed to get in, Stiles produced a set of keys from his pocket, and unlocked the door. His mischievous grin made me smile, and I nodded appreciatively as I stopped outside the door with him.

I could hear our friends laughing as they entered the rink, heading for the skates, and I beamed at Stiles.

"So you _do_ know a guy," I chuckled.

"Boyd," Stiles answered with a shrug.

"Well," I said. "Thank you, Boyd."

And then, in a move that surprised Stiles and made my own stomach flip, I stepped forward and laced my hand with his.

"Yeah, thanks, Boyd," Stiles flushed, looking at our hands.

Giggling, I rolled my eyes and pulled him in after our friends. The feel of the boy's hand in mine was making my brain feel fuzzy, and there was a permanent smile on my face. I had held his hand before, many a time, but there was something different about it now.

When I caught sight of Scott's smirk, I remembered what it was.

Picking out a pair of skates, I flopped down beside Lydia, and slipped off my sneakers. Stiles took his seat on my other side, and we each set to work lacing up our skates.

"I feel like tonight is going to be hilarious," Lydia laughed excitedly.

"I can't wait for someone to fall," I admitted honestly with a devious grin.

"You're terrible. I bet it'll be Scott," Lydia cackled. Finished lacing her skates, she rubbed at her arms. "Could it _be_ any colder in here?"

"Oh, I prepared for this," Stiles boasted proudly. Reaching into the backpack he had brought along, Stiles pulled out a blue and orange shirt and held it out to Lydia. I instantly recognized it as a shirt that Derek had pulled on that time we had gotten Danny to trace a text for us.

The memory of Derek trying to fit into the shirt, which had been sizes too small, made me smile. And then frown.

"I'm wearing blue," Lydia chided, confusing Stiles. "Orange and blue, not a good combination."

"Yeah," I agreed. I patted Stiles lightly on the arm. "It was a nice gesture, but not even the cold can get in the way of a girl and her killer outfit."

Beside me, Lydia laughed, whilst Stiles screwed up his face.

"Girls are weird," He commented. Reaching into his bag again, Stiles pulled out an orange package. "Well, does anything get in the way of girls and peanut butter cups?"

"Stiles, hand them over and no one gets hurt," I urged, eyes wide. Stiles chuckled, and handed me the orange packet. Tearing into it, I handed one cup to Lydia, and another to Stiles, leaving the third to myself.

"When I'm in prison, these will be my last meal," I moaned, savoring the peanut butter and chocolate mix.

"When?" Lydia nearly choked, laughing. "Not if, _when_."

"I mean, I feel like it could happen," I shrugged, flailing my arms in exaggeration. "Who knows?" I paused. "No, actually, I'm too pretty for prison. They'd swallow me whole. Never mind, I guess I'll just abide by the law. How boring."

"I gave up doing that years ago," Stiles joked. "It's good having your dad as the Sheriff, I've gotten out of so many tickets."

"Nepotism at its finest," I laughed.

"Can't beat it," simpered Stiles. Then, he leaned back. "Okay, so, maybe I didn't know that blue and orange are apparently not a good combination - even though it's the color of the Mets, but I digress - but, you know, um, sometimes there's other things you wouldn't think would be a good combination end up turning out to be, like, a perfect combination, you know, like two people together – Who nobody ever thought would be together, ever."

His words caused me to pause. During his speech, I had been staring out at the rink in front of us, avoiding his eyes. However, when silence settled over us, I glanced up at Stiles.

And then back down at my knees in time to see his own lean forward, and nudge mine. So he was trying to get my attention this time.

Suddenly unable to decide how I should act, my eyes then flitted towards Lydia. My friend had been smirking triumphantly throughout the entire exchange. The strawberry blonde must have caught the deer-in-headlights expression on my face, as she cleared her throat.

"I could see that," Lydia nodded. Then, with a smile, she added. "They're cute together."

Though her eyes went to Scott and Allison, who had been caught up in a world of their own this whole time, the message was received. Lydia approved of Stiles and I. My understanding was only confirmed when Lydia winked at me before standing, and following Allison and Scott onto the ice.

Left alone with Stiles, it was like my mind clouded over. I had never been very good at interacting with boys where the lines between friendship and something more had become blurred. Stuck for something to say, I looked around for any distraction I could find.

The one I found broke the tension instantly, as it caused me to burst out laughing. Scott had just taken a nose dive into the ice.

"I'm okay," Scott called from where he was sprawled out on the ice.

"I was right!" Lydia pumped her arms in the air victoriously. "It was Scott who slipped first."

"Oh, Scott," Stiles shook his head with a laugh. He stood up, and extended his hand to me. "I'll keep you upright, if you keep me upright."

"It's a deal," I finally smiled, and took his hand.

We made our way out onto the ice, just in time to see Allison help Scott up.

"Come on, Scotty," I laughed. "Believe in yourself."

"I do," Scott laughed too. "I believe I'm going to end up in the hospital."

"No, you got it," Allison grinned, holding onto her boyfriend's hands as they glided across the rink. "You got this! You're getting it!"

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," Scott exclaimed happily, and let go of Allison's hands.

Big mistake. Once free from Allison's grip, it was as though Scott's legs took on a mind of their own. Scott began to pick up speed almost instantly.

Watching him, I was reminded of those movies where, right before something bad happened, everything slowed down. In what seemed like slow motion, Scott sped straight for the barriers of the rink.

"Scott!" Allison called out, as though her shout would be able to steer him away from the see-through panels at last minute.

There was a crash, and Scott fell to the ground, dazed. Allison was quick in skating towards him, bending down beside him.

"I think you hit your head that time," grimaced the brunette.

"What was that, Coach?" Scott mumbled dreamily.

"Yeah, you definitely hit your head," Allison stated.

I couldn't help it. Staring at the dopey grin that had appeared on Scott's lips caused a bubble of laughter to escape me. And another, and another.

I was laughing so hard, doubled over, that I barely noticed when my legs slipped from under me. Stiles' arms shot out to wrap around my waist, but it was too late. I was already falling.

At the last minute, Stiles managed to flip us so that his back took the impact. I landed on top of him, still howling with laughter that could no longer be contained, as my amusement had been amplified by my own fall.

"It's not just me! Ha!" I heard Scott shout, amusement lacing his voice.

"Okay, so maybe I'm a bit rusty too," I admitted, sobering up.

"I don't mind," came the reply from the boy underneath me.

Groaning, I let out a huff of laughter as I bent my head, resting it on his chest and hiding my red face. After a brief moment, I hauled myself up, and onto my knees. I grabbed Stiles by the hand, and together, we got to our feet.

Just in time for Lydia to speed by us. For a moment, we all simply watched her as she sailed across the ice smoothly. She twirled, and jumped and finally came to a stop with a huge grin on her face.

Flashing back to the crying girl I had held in a bathroom stall, I returned Lydia's grin before sharing a smile with Allison. We had been worried about Lydia ever since Peter's attack, but judging by the happiness she was currently exuding, Lydia would be just fine.

Especially when Jackson was far from her mind.

* * *

We skated for another half and hour before carefully making our way off the ice for a break.

"You coming?" I called out to Lydia, who was busy twirling away.

"I'm gonna skate some more," Lydia answered.

Leaving her be, the four of us headed towards the arcade section of the rink. A handful of colorful machines were scattered around a large ice hockey table, and I excitedly made my way towards an arcade hoops machine.

"Try not to break anything," Allison advised me as I dug into my pocket for some spare change.

"I got it," Stiles said, appearing by my side. He slipped the money into the slot, and then selected the two player option.

"Prepare to lose, Stilinski," I playfully said.

"We'll see," Stiles shot back, a gleam in his eye.

Sixty seconds later, I victoriously threw my hands in the air. Sixty-six points to me, sixty-four to Stiles. I had won.

"I have never seen you move so fast," Scott clapped. He lightly nudged me with his elbow. Clapping for myself, I couldn't help but do a little happy dance on the spot.

"I, Olivia Wright, just won something sports related!" I paused. "Do not tell Coach about this! I don't want to set standards."

My friends laughed, and we all moved on to the other games at our disposal. A few rounds of air hockey later, Allison dragged us all to a photo booth in the corner. She and Scott went first, before they dragged both Stiles and myself with them. Lydia took a break from skating to come and take some pictures with us, before returning to the ice, where she was happiest.

"We're going to raid the vending machine," Scott announced after our third round of pictures. "Want anything?"

Stiles and I placed our requests before climbing back into the booth. We readied ourself, having a quick discussion on what poses we were choosing for the first three pictures. We agreed that the fourth would be whatever we came up with when the time came.

Stiles made sure to hit the button for two copies to be printed once we were finished. Holding one copy in my hand delicately, I took them in.

The first picture was simply us smiling together. The second was both of us making silly faces, and the third featured the two of us making the iconic blue steel pose.

The fourth picture, however, was my favorite of them all. After the third picture had been taken, we had both dissolved into laughter at the sight of each other's attempt at blue steel. The fourth picture had captured us like that. I, overcome with laughter, had leaned my head on his shoulder, whilst Stiles stared down at me, one hand over his mouth to try and stifle his giggles.

Looking at the picture, I felt a rush of affection settle in my chest. A breathless laugh tumbled from my lips, catching the attention of Stiles beside me.

"What?" He smiled, carefully placing the collection of pictures - group ones and our ones - into his wallet.

"Just something the girls said," I smiled back. Stiles looked as though he was waiting for me to continue, and I took a deep breath. Was I really about to ask the boy himself what I had asked Scott earlier that day?

Apparently not.

A loud, piercing scream broke through the comfortable silence, startling us both. Somewhere in the building, I heard Scott yelling Lydia's name. Panic took hold of me once the second scream started, and Stiles and I took off running towards the rink.

Stiles was much faster than I was to reach Lydia, who had fallen to her knees, sobbing. At first, I thought she had injured herself, and that her cries were cries of pain. A quick glance over her proved my theory wrong. There wasn't a hair out of place.

"Lyd, sh, it's okay," I soothed. "Tell us what happened?"

Through her gasps for breath, Lydia slowly relaxed in Stiles's hold. The tears still spilled over her cheeks, but between the four of us, we managed to calm her down.

"There - there was a face," Lydia hiccuped. "In the ice. I saw it! It was..."

Lydia trailed off. I frowned, watching her eyes shift from scared to confused. After a moment of silence, I couldn't take it anymore, and I prodded her gently.

"It was what?"

Lydia blinked suddenly. Once, twice, three times, in quick succession. She turned her head to look at me.

"What was what?" She asked.

"You said you saw a face in the ice," Allison reminded her, a crease forming on her forehead.

"When did I say that?" Lydia questioned next, looking just as confused as the rest of us.

For the next few moments, each of us took turns trying to jog Lydia's memory, growing steadily more concerned by the second. If Lydia did remember anything, she was doing a good job at hiding it, but one look at the perplexed expression on her face convinced us that she really couldn't remember what had caused her to scream.

Needless to say, none of us were too keen on staying at the rink. Deciding to call it a night, we said our goodbyes. Allison decided to go with Scott, though she was hesitant until I promised to look after Lydia. Nodding, Allison pulled us both into a hug, and drove off with Scott.

Stiles drove us to Lydia's, where I insisted on walking Lydia to the front door. She thankfully didn't put up too much of a fight, still shaken up.

"If you remember anything -" I began to say.

"I don't," Lydia sighed. "But if I do, I'll tell you."

"And remember you can talk to us, okay?" I squeezed her hand. "No matter what it is, it's better than going through it alone."

"Olivia, I'm not dying," Lydia laughed. Though I was glad to finally raise a smile from her, I remained serious.

"Just promise to let us know if you need help, okay?" I made her promise. "That's what we're here for, no matter what it is that's troubling you."

"I know," Lydia said sincerely. "And I love all of you for it, but I'm okay. I promise."

"Okay," I nodded, finally allowing a small smile. "Night, Lydia."

"Night," Lydia echoed. "Night, Stiles!" She called towards the jeep, and then gave me another wink. "Have fun."

"Fun?" I repeated as she stepped into her house. "He's driving me home, how much fun do you think we're going to have?"

"Cars can be fun," Lydia shrugged. "Make good decisions!" She exclaimed with a smirk as she closed her front door.

"That's not even going to..." I trailed off, shaking my head. "You're gone. Never mind."

* * *

"Hey, sorry I forgot to call you last night," I said, flopping down onto a bench outside school, phone pressed to my ear. "I got home late."

"It's fine," Jen said. "I get it. You don't have time for your big sister anymore."

"I shared a room with you for years, Jen," I laughed. "I'll always have time for you. Besides, I need my partner in crime for pranking Carter, so really, I can't afford to lose time for you."

"Way to make it sound like a business deal," joked Jen. "So what was the emergency anyway?"

"Well, okay, maybe I was a little bit dramatic when I said emergency -"

"In caps."

" - but moving on," I ignored her interruption. "I think I have boy issues."

"Oh, good, finally, I've been waiting for this since the day you turned thirteen," Jen said. "So, who is the boy?"

"Stiles."

There was silence for a moment.

"As in, Stilinski?" Jen sounded mildly shocked. "Like, dad's friend's son?"

"The very same."

"Okay, so what's happening?" Jen asked, and so, I told her. I recounted everything that Lydia and Allison had said, including what Scott had told me. Of course, the news of my first kiss excited my big sister, but I hushed her quickly, my cheeks burning a brilliant shade of pink.

"Sounds like he had a date in mind, Sis," Jen told me once I was finished. "Pretty embarrassing how you missed that one."

"Gee, thanks," I said, my tone of voice sardonic.

"Have you talked to Stiles about it?" Jen asked next. "I mean, by the sounds of it, you two are pretty good friends. He's a good kid."

"I almost did," I admitted. "Last night, but... something came up."

"By your tone, that something was bad." I could practically see Jen frowning. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I said quickly. Too quickly. "It's fine," I added.

"Olivia," Jen coaxed, drawing out my name. "What's going on with you lately?"

"Nothing," I reply. "Look, I have to go or I'll miss lunch completely. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," Jen agreed, sounding suspicious.

I hung up, and pushed my hair from my face. Taking a deep breath, I grimaced at my phone before slipping it into my pocket. I had already faced questioning by my mother, who had commented lightly how she felt as though she barely saw me anymore.

Exhaling heavily, I grabbed my bag and headed back into the school building. Lunch was already half over, and though I wasn't too hungry anyway, I still wanted to meet up with my friends.

I rounded the corner and instantly spotted Erica standing at her locker. Deciding I wasn't in the mood to deal, I turned back and took another hallway towards the cafeteria.

It was there that I met Allison.

"Hey, babe," I greeted, stopping in front of her. Immediately, I noticed the scowl on her features. "What's up, buttercup?"

Allison looked around quickly, as though she was checking to make sure no one was about to overhear whatever she was about to say.

"My boyfriend is stubborn, that's what's up," groaned Allison. "I saw him talking to Erica, and well, she was getting very friendly with him."

"Well, Scott's not the type of guy to pay much attention to that. Not when he's with you," I tried to help, only to have Allison shake her head quickly.

"No, I'm not jealous. That's not it," Allison explained. "I'm worried. Erica's with Derek now, just like Isaac is. I'm worried that Scott is going to get caught up in the middle of them, and that can't happen right now."

"I get that, I do," I winced. "But, Scott can't exactly stand by either. None of us really can."

"That's what Scott said," Allison said through gritted teeth. "But, don't you feel what's happening? My grandfather coming here, Derek turning Erica and Isaac, it's – It's like battle lines are being drawn."

"And we're stuck in the middle," I finished. "And, you're afraid Scott will get caught in the crossfire."

"Yes!" Allison exclaimed, looking relieved that someone else had grasped how much danger we were in. "Scott, or you, or Stiles. Lydia's been pulled into this too, thanks to Peter, even if she doesn't really know all that we know. We're in serious trouble here."

"We'll figure it out," I assured. "You keep trying to get through to Scott, and we'll come up with some sort of plan. We've done it before."

Allison nodded wordlessly. "I have to go see my grandfather," she sighed. "He wants us to bond. Though it feels more like he wants to interrogate me. It's getting harder and harder to hide the fact that I'm still with Scott."

"We'll keep Gerard away from Scott," I said. "Somehow."

Leaving Allison to deal with her grandfather, I continued my journey to the cafeteria. Right outside, I found Stiles.

"You're late too?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dad called," Stiles explained. "You?"

"Jen."

"How's Lucy?" Stiles asked as we pushed through the cafeteria doors, a genuine smile of affection on his face. It made my insides clench. Damn it.

"She's got herself a little boyfriend," I giggled.

"He better not break her heart," joked Stiles. "Otherwise he'll have you to deal with."

"Carter would get there first," I informed. "He's been practicing his overprotective uncle act since the day Jen told us she was pregnant."

"How long has he been practicing his overprotective brother act?" Stiles smiled.

"I was too little to remember when it started," I shrugged. "Probably a few hours after I was born, if I were to hazard a guess."

The first thing I noticed when we reached Scott was that his eyes were troubled. I didn't have to ask why. Allison had already told me, after all. Instead, I reached out and rubbed his back, trying to provide some comfort.

I was rewarded with a small smile.

"Hey, Scott, do you see that?" Stiles asked, breaking the relative silence.

"What?"

"That," Stiles repeated, pointing at an empty seat a few tables away from us.

"It's an empty table," Scott stated.

"Yeah, but whose empty table?"

Understanding flooded Scott's face. "Boyd's."

"What? Is that unusual?" I asked, looking between the two boys.

In unison, both of the dark-haired boys turned to stare openly at me, as though I had just spoken some alien language, and they were trying to figure out what I had said.

"Hello!" I rolled my eyes. "I only transferred here a few months ago, I don't know Boyd's habits!"

"Yes, it's unusual," Stiles finally answered. "Boyd never misses school. Like, ever."

"It was Derek," Scott decided, standing up so quickly that the legs of his chair scraped across the linoleum, producing a sound that made me and a few other people cringe.

I hurried to follow Scott out of the cafeteria, Stiles following too.

"Whoa, wait, when did we reach that conclusion?" I answered. "_How_ did we reach that conclusion?"

"Erica," Scott said, as though that provided all the answers. He went on to explain. "I asked her who was next, but she wouldn't tell me. Erica is one of the few people Boyd ever actually talks too. She gets turned into one of us, and suddenly he's missing? It's not a coincidence, we all know it."

"Well, okay, but you need to calm down," I said, grabbing Scott's arm and making him halt. "What's our game plan here?"

"We find Boyd," Scott decided. "I'll go to the ice-rink after school, see if he's there. Stiles, you go to his house, and if he's not there, you call me."

"What will I do?" I asked. Scott hesitated. I groaned. "Scott, I have to do something."

"But if Derek really did this," he paused, changing what he wanted to say. "You trusted him, _really_ trusted him -"

"And that doesn't matter now," I snapped. Derek was a sore spot, as much as I hated to admit it. We had yet to really discuss his betrayal, though I thought about it more often than I wanted to. "If he _has_ turned Boyd, then we need to regain our control in this. We need to stop him from doing what he's doing."

"Do we?" Stiles asked, already looking sheepish. Both Scott and I braced ourselves for whatever he was going to say. "Maybe we should let him. It's Boyd, you know, man? You said Derek's giving them a choice, right?"

"An uninformed choice," I corrected bitterly.

"We can't," Scott agreed with me.

"But, you gotta admit, Erica looks pretty good," Stiles declared. "You know, the word sensational comes to mind."

I didn't even try to hide the scowl I sent his way. He didn't notice. I rolled my eyes, scowling at the floor next.

"Yeah. How good do you think she's gonna look with a wolfsbane bullet in her head?" challenged Scott, conjuring an image that stalled us all.

"All right," Stiles conceded. "All I'm saying is, maybe this one isn't totally your responsibility."

"They all are," Scott argued. "And you know this thing's gonna get out of control. That makes me responsible."

"All right, I'm with you," Stiles assured. A smile tugged at his lips. "And I also gotta say this new-found heroism is making me very attracted to you."

A laugh bubbled from me, and a grin broke out on Scott's face, breaking the tension.

"Shut up," Scott chuckled, walking away from us.

"No, seriously. Do you wanna just try making out for a sec?" Stiles called after his best friend, ignoring the odd looks he received. "Just to see how it feels?"

We heard Scott's laugh as he disappeared around the corner. Beaming in success, Stiles turned to me, and wriggled his eyebrows.

"How about you?" He offered, pursing his lips and making kissy noises in my direction. Laughing, I pushed him forward down the hall.

"Maybe later," I said, and then stopped, realizing how flirtatiously I had said it. Stiles looked pleasantly surprised.

"Oh," was all he could say, his lips parted and his eyebrows raised. I blushed.

"Shut up."

* * *

Laying on my couch later that day, I sighed. There was only a certain length of time that one could stare at the ceiling before getting seriously bored.

We had come up with a more solid plan regarding Boyd towards the end of the day. I grabbed my phone from the coffee table, and re-read the texts that we had sent through one of the group chats. That particular chat only contained the boys and I, as Allison had grown convinced that her phone was no longer safe from prying eyes.

Staring at the screen of my phone, I went over the plan. Stiles was going to go over to Boyd's - in fact, he had already left for there - and if Boyd wasn't home, Scott would head to the rink. He had planned to go earlier, but Dr. Deaton had called him into work.

"Hey, honey," Mom greeted, making me jump. She chuckled. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," I waved her off. "I'm easily startled these days, apparently."

Though innocent, my comment caused my mother to frown worriedly. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but was cut off when my phone began to ring.

"Go ahead," She nodded towards my phone, and I sent her a guilty smile, looking to see who was calling me. Stiles.

"Hey!" I jumped up off the couch. "Well?"

"He's not home," Stiles sounded frustrated. "I don't think anyone is. I can't get through to Scott, but I'm going to try his cell again."

"Okay, so -"

"I'll talk to you later," Stiles said quickly. His hurried words caused me to frown, but just before he hung up, I heard a voice.

"What are you doing here, Stiles?" The voice asked, sounding sly. My eyes widened. _Erica_.

"Is everything okay?" My mother asked from behind me. Schooling my expression, I sat back down. I glanced at the clock. Stiles had five minutes to call me back, or I was going over there.

"You look a bit paler," Mom said.

"Stomach-ache," I offered, and it seemed to placate my mother. It wasn't a lie. The usual discomfort I felt when I believed danger was lurking around the corner was there, nagging away at me. Five minutes suddenly felt like five hours.

Mom tried to make conversation with me, and I attempted to return it. When the five minutes were up, I hopped off the couch, and grabbed my keys.

"Where are you going?"

"I forgot to pick something up from Allison today," I lied easily. "Notes for school. I'll be back later, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, I slipped out of my house and into my car. Scott had only told me the street name for where Boyd lived, but it didn't take me long to locate the familiar blue jeep. Parking behind it, I exited my car and stepped onto the patch of grass, looking around.

Erica was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Stiles.

Realizing a moment too late that I had left my phone on the couch at home, I resorted to simply yelling the boy's name. Walking around towards the back of Boyd's house, I found myself standing in a small alleyway. It was already beginning to get dark, and though I was in a suburban area, I wasn't too fond about being in an alleyway close to sundown.

"Stiles?" I called out again, and finally heard a groan coming from my left.

From a dumpster.

"Stiles!" I exclaimed, rushing over to the dumpster. I grimaced as I opened the lid, and then jumped back as Stiles leaped to his feet, blinking his eyes. With a hand pressed to his head, he seemed to be having trouble adjusting to the sudden influx of light.

"Bitch," Stiles grumbled under his breath, mentally talking to Erica no doubt as he blinked his eyes some more.

"What happened?" I asked, grasping his arm to keep him steady as he climbed out of the dumpster.

"She ripped part of my engine out of the jeep, hit me across the head," groaned Stiles, finally removing his hand from his forehead. An angry red mark marred his skin, threatening to turn into a nasty bruise.

Carefully, with gentle hands, I reached up and touched it. Stiles shied away initially, before he relaxed and allowed me to inspect the mark.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" I asked, holding up zero.

"Six," he said clearly, with a smile that let me know he was joking.

"Close enough," I smiled softly, brushing my hand across his forehead. "Do you feel dizzy at all?"

"No, I'm good. Pissed, but good."

"Yeah, I bet Erica didn't look so _sensational_ when she was smacking you across the face," I remarked dryly.

For some reason, the tone of my face made Stiles stand a little taller, and a lopsided grin appeared on his face. I ignored it, removing my hands from his face.

"You should call Scott again," I said as I took a step back. "Let him know what happened."

Luckily for us, Scott picked up on the second ring. After taking in what we had to tell him, the werewolf announced that he was heading straight for the rink. Before he could hang up, I declared that Stiles and I would be there too, parked a block or two away in case Scott ran into trouble and needed to get out of there quickly.

"My jeep is useless," Stiles informed.

"I know, that's why we're taking my car," I said. "You don't seriously think I walked here, did you?"

* * *

"What if Derek shows up?" Stiles asked, later on, as we slumped low in our seats.

"Then I run over there and kick his ass," I muttered, scowling at my steering wheel.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Stiles questioned, after a moment of silence.

The answer was no. I didn't want to talk about Derek. I didn't want to feel the bubble of anger in my chest. It was much more powerful than the last time we had been betrayed by Derek. Back then, it hadn't been entirely his fault. Peter had been pulling the strings.

Now, however, Derek had become the puppeteer. Even so, despite the fact that I didn't want to talk about Derek, I surprised myself.

"I just don't get it," I sighed. "I mean, I know he needs a pack, but, does he have to do it this way?" I paused. "And I know you don't get it, but I really _did_ trust him. I should have yelled and screamed at him when we were at Isaac's house, but I didn't. Part of me wants to, but another part of me just wants to find out what's going on in his mind." I sat up a bit straighter, pulled my legs up onto the seat and hugged them to my chest. "If I knew what was going through his head, maybe I could help him."

"You still want to help him, after all of this?"

The question wasn't accusing, I was glad to realize. Stiles was merely curious.

"After I yell at him," I smiled ruefully. "The only way I can think to describe it is, Derek reminds me of Carter in some ways. I know it doesn't sound like it should make much sense, because they seem so different, but it's just something I see. They both remind me of lost children sometimes."

"Lost children?" Stiles's lips quirked upwards.

"Yep," I nod. "Sometimes, when things are tough, Carter just gets this look in his eyes. Like he's pleading for help, but he doesn't know how to ask for it. I see the same look in Derek sometimes. He reminds me of a lost child because, somewhere inside of him, he still is one. That's why he so willingly clung to Peter. You would too if you lost your entire family as a young teenager. Some part of Derek is still that scared little boy," I explain. "I think that's another reason why he's so hellbent on making a pack. A pack is supposed to be your family, and Derek doesn't have one of those."

My words had caused me to get upset, and a sad smile had settled on my face. I stared down at my hands, grateful for how my hair fell to form a curtain, partially shielding my face.

I felt more than heard Stiles shift beside me. His hand reached out and grasped mine, tugging lightly. I set my legs on the floor of my car, turning around to face him.

"He has you," Stiles said, reaching out to brush my hair back. "Even if he's too stupid to realize how lucky that makes him."

I smiled. Then, I giggled.

"What?" Stiles asked, chuckling.

"It's just... remember I said that Lydia and Allison had told me something, but I never told you what it was?"

"Yeah."

"Well," I bit my lip. "They think that your idea to go skating was... was you trying to ask me on a date."

There. I had said it. It was out there. I had said the word date to his face.

The same face that was flushing an adorable red.

"Wait," I began slowly. "Was it?"

"Well," Stiles cleared his throat. "When I told my dad, the day of Kate's funeral, that we were on a date, it was a cover but... I started thinking, maybe next time, it didn't have to be a cover. Maybe the next time we went on a date, it wouldn't have to be a lie."

"Oh, my God!" I exclaimed, covering my face in my hands. "They were right! I invited _everyone_ on a _date_!"

To my surprise and slight irritation, Stiles began to laugh. Uncovering my face, I reached across and pinched his arm.

"Don't laugh!" I ordered. "This is _your_ fault!"

"What did you want me to say?!" Stiles waved his arms. "_Olivia, will you go on a date with me? A date date? With no one else but the two of us_?"

"Well that wouldn't have left much room for interpretation, would it have?" I countered, causing him to grin.

"Had I said that outright, you would have run in the opposite direction, admit it," Stiles teased.

"No, I wouldn't have," I said, self-consciously. "Okay, maybe I would have."

"Hey, that's okay. You're awkward, I get it," Stiles soothed. "I have been your friend for quite some time now, I do understand how that brain of yours works."

"I would have come back and accepted," I admit in a mumble. "Once I had my moment to panic."

"You would have?" Stiles asked, and the hopeful gleam in his eye made me laugh.

"Is that so surprising?"

"Yes."

"Not to me," I said. "If you asked me out, I'd say yes."

Stiles shifted in his seat again, leaning in closer. Taking my hands in his, he made a big show of taking a deep breath.

"Olivia Wright, will you go on a date with me? An actual date. No other friends allowed. Not even Scott, though it will pain me to be separated from him for a night."

"Yes," I laughed. "Don't worry, I'll give you text breaks so you can make sure Scott is okay without you for a few hours."

"Oh thank God," Stiles breathed.

Rolling my eyes, I reached over and shoved him playfully. Laughing, he rebounded quickly and grabbed onto the hand that had shoved him. Something changed in the air then, and I swore that I stopped breathing.

To my nervousness and excitement, Stiles leaned in. He moved slowly, as though he was afraid that I'd jump back, change my mind and run out on him. Still, even though I felt surprisingly impatient, I found something enjoyable about the buildup. It made my stomach flip when Stiles's lips touched mine.

Memories of the dance flooded me instantly, and caused me to press myself closer. Stiles didn't seem to mind, angling his head and deepening the kiss, somehow managing to remain gentle and slow about it all.

We broke apart for air for only a few seconds before Stiles moved his hands to my face, and recaptured my lips with his. One of his hands slid down to the small of my back, before settling on my hip. I felt him squeeze my hip softly, and I reached up, winding my arms around his neck. I dragged my fingers through his hair, causing a sigh to emit from him.

I filed that information away, in the back of my mind.

Placing one last gentle kiss on my lips, Stiles pulled back, resting his forehead against mine.

I guess Lydia was right. Cars were fun.

I opened my eyes to see him smiling, and just as I began to return the smile, a loud bang sounded from the back of my car.

Stiles and I jumped apart.

"What was that?" I asked, wide eyed.

"It was me!" A voice groaned from outside. Scott. A pained Scott.

Climbing out of the car quickly, I pushed all thoughts of the kiss to the back of my mind the moment I laid eyes on my friend. Bruises littered his skin, though upon closer inspection, I was relieved to see they were already healing.

What showed no signs of healing, however, was the three deep slashes across his stomach. Made by_ claws_.

"Did Boyd -" Stiles began to ask.

"No," Scott shook his head, breathing heavily. "Derek did this."

A pang went through me.

"Derek did _this_?" I whispered. I touched the edge of Scott's shirt, silently asking if I could see the wound. He nodded, and carefully, I peeled the shredded material off, and rolled the shirt up.

"It won't heal," groaned Scott.

"Stiles, there's a mini first aid kit in my glove box. Mom got me it when I got my car, just in case," I explained. "Get it for me."

Nodding, Stiles disappeared towards the front of my car. He returned a second later, and opened the box for me, setting it on top of the trunk of my car.

I searched through the measly amount of supplies, finally coming up with some antibacterial wipes.

"I can clean away the blood, but that's about it," I decided. "I have no bandages."

"I can go to the clinic," Scott informed as I set to work. "I can patch myself up there."

"I'll take you," I nodded, and then apologized when Scott winced.

The sound of a phone ringing caused me to glance over at Stiles.

"Your father?" I asked, knowing the answer. Since finding Stiles in the dumpster, his father had already called him four times. Stiles had ignored every call.

"Okay, answer him, tell him that someone vandalized your car when you dropped by Boyd's house to pick something up for school. You haven't answered because your phone lost battery, and you've only now made it home. I'll drop you to your house, and take Scott to the clinic."

"I want to go with Scott," Stiles protested.

"Your father is probably worried about you," I reasoned. "There's no need for you to get into any more trouble." Sensing his reluctance, I reached out and grasped his hand. "I'll take care of Scott. You can trust me on that."

"Stiles, she's right," Scott aided me. "Go home to your dad."

"Fine," Stiles finally gave in. "But for the record, I hate this plan."

"We know you do," I smiled. "Now help me get Scott into the backseat."

* * *

"Why are you smiling?" Scott asked as I parked around the back of the veterinary clinic. I let out a tiny laugh.

"It's just, you and Stiles are so cute," I gushed. We had dropped Stiles home only ten minutes earlier, though it had taken longer than expected to say goodbye, as Stiles and Scott ended up talking in hushed whispers, and hugging for a good five minutes.

Then, I spent a good two or three minutes convincing Stiles that Scott would be just fine. Finally, Stiles disappeared into his house, but not before planting a kiss on my forehead. When I returned to my car, I was grateful to see that Scott had been too focused on his wound to notice the gesture.

"Oh, shush," Scott chuckled, and then instantly winced. "Ow."

"Okay, buddy," I helped him out of the car. "Let's get you patched up."

Stopping at the back entrance of the clinic, Scott produced his set of keys from his pocket, and handed them to me. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. My presence instantly woke up the animals who had clearly been forced to stay for more than an hour at the clinic. Thankfully, only one dog reacted vocally. A little brown and white puppy in the cage closest to the door.

"Oh, grr to you too," I whispered to the puppy that had a green bandage wrapped around one of his legs. "Oh, no, what happened to you?"

"He had to have surgery on his leg," Scott answered, hobbling in behind me and shutting the door.

"Aw, poor little guy," I pouted. Reaching into the cage, I let him sniff my hand. The puppy responded by licking my hand, and I smiled, petting him softly on the head.

"What breed is he?" I asked.

"Border collie," Scott informed me, smiling. "He's a stray. Someone found him limping on the side of the road. He has no owners."

"Well, that just makes me sad," I whimpered. "What are you going to do with him?"

"Find him a new home, I guess," Scott replied. "He seems to like you."

"Dad would kill me," I frowned, petting the puppy some more. "I'll take him. I mean, I'll ask my mother first, but..."

"He's yours if you want him," A voice said from behind us, and I jumped, a yelp escaping me.

"Dr. Deaton!" Scott exclaimed, trying to stand a little bit straighter as though it would conceal his wound. "I can explain."

"I'm sure you can, but there's no need," The man responded in his usual calm tone. He glanced back at me. "If your mother has no issue with it, you can take that little guy home with you. He needs a home."

"Thank you," I said slowly, my eyes sliding to Scott and asking a silent question. Do we stay, or make a break for it?

"That doesn't look too pretty," Dr. Deaton observed, referring to Scott's wound. "You're probably wondering why it isn't healing."

"You know?" Scott asked, his eyes doubling in size. Dr. Deaton ignored the question, simply waving his hand in the air.

"It's because it's from an alpha," Dr. Deaton revealed to us. He raised his hand again, and motioned for us to follow him into the examination room.

I slid up beside Scott, and allowed the boy to loop his arm around my shoulders whilst I supported his weight, my hand coming to rest on his side. I helped him into the examination room, but what we saw made us both pull up short in the doorway.

Dr. Deaton stood at the head of the table, his palms resting on the edge. However, it was what was on the table that silenced us fully.

A body. A _dead_ body. The man, who looked as though he would have been in his early twenties, had been brutally killed. There were angry slashes criss-crossing his torso, and the sight made bile rise up in my throat.

Dr. Deaton, on the other hand, looked completely unperturbed. His eyes landed on Scott.

"I think we better have that talk now."

* * *

Oh, Deaton! I love his character so much.

So, let's talk about the chapter. I hadn't originally planned for Stiles and Olivia to have their second kiss in this chapter, but while I was typing, it just seemed natural for it to happen there.

I also never planned for Olivia to (possibly) get a furry friend of her own. That was something that came to me on a whim, whilst I watched one of my own beloved fluffballs (I have three) run in circles, get dizzy, and crash right into the closed door. (Don't worry, he's fine. The only thing wounded was his pride).

Still, I hope you enjoyed these sudden decisions for this chapter, and I can't wait to hear from everyone!

Until next time,

Megan x


	8. Chapter 8

Hazy

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

I was frozen.

Standing at the edge of the table, I stared down at the body of the man, expecting him to jump up at any second. He never did. He simply remained still on the cold, metal table.

Folding my arms across my chest, I took a deep breath and stepped away from the table, unable to look at the body any longer. Before I turned, my eyes landed briefly on the angry, bloody cuts that marred the man's flesh.

A shudder crawled the length of my spine at the sight.

"They're coming back," said Deaton, "so we don't have much time to talk."

"What is that?" Scott asked, referring to the strongly smelling liquid that Deaton was pouring onto a cotton pad.

"Rubbing alcohol," answered Deaton as he tended to Scott's wound. "You don't want it to get infected, do you? You will heal the same, just not as quickly, because of Derek."

"And you know that how?" I asked, coming to stand at Scott's side.

"Yeah, how _do_ you know any of this?" Scott questioned through gritted teeth as the alcohol hit his raw flesh.

"That's a longer story," Deaton stated. "What I can tell you, is that I know about your kind, and your kind? I can help." Pointing behind himself at the body, the man's eyes grew troubled. "This? This is something different."

"Well, do you know what did it?" Scott implored.

"Because we're stumped," I added.

"No, I don't. But the Argents will. And this is the crucial part," began Deaton, "they'll have a record or book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations, of all the things that they've discovered."

"Like an encyclopedia for all things wacky?" I rose an eyebrow, and then paused. "Wait, _things_? _Plural_?"

"How many different things are there?" Scott sounded just as concerned as I felt.

Dr. Deaton observed us for a moment, a hint of amusement appearing in his features. He opened his mouth to speak when, beside me, Scott froze. Both Dr. Deaton and I understood why a few moments later when the sound of tyres on gravel alerted us to the fact that we had company.

"That will be the hunters," Dr. Deaton muttered, hurriedly packing away his first aid kit. The bell above the entrance chimed from the other room, and I looked to Scott. We both knew that, even if we made it to my car, the hunters would hear us pull out.

Scott reached out and grasped my hand, tugging me towards the nearest door. Together, we slipped into the supply closet. Though dark, the space was bigger than I expected, allowing us to fit in comfortably. Scott gently ushered me towards the back wall, while he remained at the door, crouched enough to be hidden from view as he stared out through the rectangular window in the door.

I let my back hit the wall, sliding down into a seated position with my legs tugged up to my chest. Scott glanced back at me, and I gave him a nervous smile.

"I'm starting to think I need to buy a more prominent closed sign," Dr. Deaton said in a way of greeting, and I cursed the man for being able to remain so calm and neutral when my own heart was threatening to crash through my chest.

A shadow passed over the door, a figure that was unfamiliar to me. I wondered how many were out there with Deaton, and shifted slightly to catch Scott's attention.

"How many?" I mouthed silently, and Scott held up four fingers in reply. Four of them, and three of us including Dr. Deaton. I wasn't too fond of that math.

"Hello, Alan," a familiar voice greeted. Gerard. "It's been a while. The last I heard, you had retired."

I fought not to groan at the sound of the man's voice. Nerves were replaced with flares of anger, and I had to clutch the tops of my knees to keep from rushing out and doing god knows what.

"Last I heard you followed a code of conduct," Deaton sassed.

"If you hadn't noticed," the next voice said, calmer and yet more emotional, "this body is one of ours."

Trust Chris Argent to be the voice of reason, I thought to myself with a smirk.

"I did, I also noticed the gunpowder residue on his finger tips," Deaton pointed out. "So don't assume I will be swayed by your philosophy just 'cause I'll answer a few questions."

"He was only 24," Chris informed, and my amusement at Deaton's answers disappeared. Chris did sound genuinely disheartened. Tired, even. I couldn't blame him.

"Killers come in all ages," Deaton casually stated.

"All ages, sizes, shapes," drawled Gerard. "It's the last one that concerns us."

"How about you tell us what you found?" Chris insisted.

"See this cut? Precise. Almost surgical," Deaton explained. "This isn't the wound that killed him. This had a more interesting purpose -"

"- Relating to the spine," guessed Gerard.

"That's right," Deaton agreed. "Whatever made this cut, it's laced with a paralytic toxin, potent enough to disable all motor functions. These are the cause of death. Notice the patterns on each side."

So our creature was paralyzing it's victims before making the kill. My first thought was that it fought dirty, incapacitating it's victim instead of putting up a fair fight, but my second thought was that it backed up Allison's description.

"Five for each finger," Chris was saying, and I turned my attention back to the conversation.

"Each claw," Gerard corrected.

"As you can see, it dug in, slashed upward, eviscerating the lungs and slicing through the bone of the rib cage with ease," Deaton described, and I blanched. Gory, much?

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Chris asked, but we already knew the answer.

"No."

"Any idea at all what killed him?" Chris sounded frustrated.

"No," Deaton repeated. "But I can tell you it's fast, remarkably strong, and has the capacity to render its victims essentially helpless within seconds."

In the supply closet, Scott and I shared a grimace.

"If you're saying we should be cautious, we get it," Chris scoffed.

"I'm saying you should be afraid," Deaton stated, his voice low and serious. "Be very afraid. Because in the natural world, predators with paralytic toxins use them to catch and eat their prey. This prey wasn't eaten. That means whatever killed him only wanted to kill him. In fact, killing may be its only purpose."

There was movement outside then. The sound of someone grunting as they picked up a considerable weight. Boots shuffling across the floor. The soft sound of the door closing in the other room. There was a few moments of silence before we heard Deaton sigh from outside the door. He pushed it open a second later, giving us an assuring smile.

"The coast is clear."

Scott let out the breath he had been holding and reached back, helping me up. I brushed off my jeans and stepped back into the examination room, noting that the body of the dead man was now gone.

"Paralytic toxin?" I echoed.

"One of the strongest I've encountered," Deaton said.

"How many paralytic toxins have you encountered?" I asked, my voice high. Deaton smiled at me, but gave no answer.

"You're a strange man," I said, only proving to amuse him more.

"They don't know either," Scott said. "The hunters. They're as lost as we are."

"Thank God for small miracles," I mused. "We need to find that book," I said, turning serious. "If it's in there, we need to find it before the Argents do."

"Any ideas on how we're going to do that?" Scott asked me.

"Well, I was thinking some good old fashioned stealing," I shrugged. "I don't think we could charm our way in, do you?"

"What about your dad?" Scott asked. "He's been hanging around with Gerard lately, hasn't he?"

"You want me to ask my dad to steal a record book of supernatural creatures from his new BFF? He'd ship me off to the nearest mental hospital!" I snorted. "Again," I added, under my breath.

Scott opened his mouth to say something, only to wince in pain as he moved.

"You should go home and rest," Deaton advised. "Pushing yourself will only make it worse."

Scott sighed and nodded, too tired to put up a fight. He instantly began to move towards the back room, and I moved to follow along behind him. However, I paused in the doorway and stared at Deaton as he went about wiping down the examination table.

"Is there anything else you need, Olivia?" Deaton asked, looking up at me at the end of his question.

Peering at him curiously, I knew that he knew that I was trying to figure him out. Flashing him a smile, I decided that the usually stoic man was definitely on our team.

"Not yet," I answered. "Goodnight, Dr. Deaton."

Then, I turned on my heel, said a sweet goodbye to the puppy in the back, and exited the veterinarian clinic.

* * *

_I woke up with a pounding headache._

_That wasn't surprising. After dropping Scott home, I had returned to my own home, nursing a developing migraine. I could barely remember the interaction between my mother and I before I fell into my bed. Something about feeling hot, and seeing how I was the next morning._

_A glance out of the window told me it wasn't yet morning. In fact, the sky was dark, and empty. My bed wasn't very comfortable either, and I looked down to see why. I wasn't in my bed. I was on a carpeted floor._

_I flew up, my eyes darting around, hastily taking in my surroundings. What looked like a long, dark hallway stretched out in front of me, and I quickly stood._

_Everything inside of me screamed to head in the opposite direction, but I found that, for some reason, I couldn't see behind myself. My only option was to walk down through the hallway._

_There were signs and pictures all over the walls, but I couldn't make any of the words or figures out. Everything was blurry, though I thought I had made out what looked like some kind of jersey on the male in the picture. A lacrosse jersey, maybe._

_Eventually, the hallway ended, and I stopped in front of a door. Again, I fought the urge to turn and run, and set my hand shakily on the handle._

_A loud hiss sounded from behind me, and I spun around, pressing my back flat against the door as my eyes searched the dark for whatever had caused the sound._

_There was something crawling towards me. I couldn't see what. The darkness seemed to draw closer by the second, and I reached behind myself, grasping the door's handle firmly this time. I gave it a sharp tug downwards, and sped into whatever room was waiting behind it._

_Pressing my ear against the again closed door, I waited for the hissing sound to continue. It didn't._

_In fact, it was too silent. I couldn't even hear my own breathing, though I knew it was coming in harsh pants. Looking around at this new room, I saw that it looked like a waiting area. It felt familiar, like I'd been there before, and with a start, I realized that I had. It was the local mechanic shop._

_Odd place to be dreaming about, I thought to myself. I knew now it was definitely a dream. Feeling a slight bit more confident knowing it wasn't real, I stepped away from the door and allowed my legs to carry me towards the nearest window._

_I saw a man standing inside, his back turned to me. He seemed to be working on something, concentrating intently, though I wasn't able to see what. I didn't really care._

_I waited, wondering if he was going to turn around, only to find that he wasn't moving at all. In fact, he didn't even budge when a shadow crossed over him, or when the hissing returned, growing louder and more menacing by the second._

_"Excuse me?" I called, banging on the window with my fist. I then grimaced at myself. Some sort of monster was in that room with that man, and I start with 'excuse me'? My God..._

_"Sir!" I hollered next. "Get out of there! It's -" A loud shriek interrupted what I was going to say, and I realized the scream had come from me. The creature, standing on two legs but in a crouch, was standing right in front of the man. It's head was moving from side to side, up and down, like it was sizing the man up._

_Yellow eyes met mine, and I subconsciously took a step back, away from the window. However, the creature seemed to be looking through me instead of at me. It blinked its yellow eyes once, twice, three times before turning back to the still unmoving man._

_Then it raised its claws, and brought them down fast against the man's chest. I covered the scream that got stuck in my throat with my hand, and turned away. Tears began to roll down my cheeks as a choked cry sputtered from the man. Gasping for breath, I ran._

_Without a single glance back, I darted for the door I had come through, and pulled it open swiftly. Checking to make sure nothing was behind me, I never checked to see if something was in front of me until I slammed into a hard chest._

_A strangled gasp of fright left me as the dead hunter grasped me by the shoulders. Blood was pouring from the wounds in his torso, and from his eyes, nose and mouth. The smell of blood overwhelmed me, as the hunter pulled me closer to him._

_"He's coming!" The hunter yelled, eyes wide with fear. "It's going to get me, get all of them! It wants them! Us!"_

_"Us? Them? Them who?" I pleaded with him to answer._

_"You have to run!" The hunter shouted, spinning me so that I was behind him. He shoved me down towards the end of the hallway, and I stumbled, crashing into the nearest wall as I struggled to regain my balance._

_Another scream filled the air, being drowned out a second later by the same hissing from before. Sprinting down the hallway, I had nearly made it to the end when something lunged at me from behind._

_There was a sharp stinging sensation at the back of my neck, and I gasped. A strange sensation began to travel from my neck, all the way down to my toes. It felt cold, but tingly, and not at all pleasant. Knees buckling, I began to fall towards the floor._

I woke up before I hit the ground, and flew up in my bed, taking in large gulps of air to sate my aching lungs. My hands found their way to the back of my neck, where I expected to find torn flesh, but there was nothing.

It was only then that my attention was drawn to my pounding head. The migraine from last night hadn't eased a bit, and as the images of the dream began to blur, I found I couldn't concentrate.

Cradling my head in my hands, I barely heard the bedroom door open. My mother came to sit at the end of my bed, her hand pressing against my forehead. Obviously deciding I wasn't well enough to go to school, she told me to lay back down while she went and fetched me painkillers. I only somewhat registered my mother administering them to me, using her 'nurse' voice, and didn't fight it when she gently pushed me back down. I was fast asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

* * *

It was already ten-thirty by the time I woke up again. This time, the migraine had eased considerably, and I scolded myself for not taking them the night before.

I reached out, patting around my nightstand in search of my phone. Wincing at the brightness, I allowed my eyes to adjust before scrolling through my messages. There were three from Lydia in the group chat, and one from Scott outside of that. Scott's message informed me that Allison had found out that her parents were reading her messages, so we had to up our game and try to figure out a new way of hiding Allison and Scott's relationship. My reply was short and sweet, telling him to keep his chin up, that we would figure out a way around it.

Lydia's message was a little less heavy. She started out by typing my name in capital letters, and then asking about my whereabouts. Her third message was her saying that we were no longer best friends, because I had left her all alone that morning. I couldn't help but laugh at her dramatics, and praised whatever God was listening for Lydia Martin.

_It's okay, I got my karma_, I typed. _Awful migraine. It's better now, but mom kept me out of school. Not that I'm complaining much._

_That explains it_, Lydia messaged back. _OK, all is forgiven. Try a hot compress._

Just as I was about to type back, I noticed that it wasn't Lydia's name before the 'is typing' message. It was Stiles. My grip on my phone tightened subconsciously, and I swallowed as a large weight settled on my chest. Before I had the chance to feel silly about how anxiously I was awaiting his message, Stiles hit send.

_Hope you feel better soon xx._

Instantly, my cheeks flooded with heat. I pressed the back of my hand to the side of my face, willing them to calm down. What was I? A teenage girl?

Wait...

I was.

Shaking my head at myself, I groaned as soon as the next message popped up. It was from Scott, and it contained just two things. An arrow pointing upwards, at Stiles's message, and a winky face. My face blushed brighter, and I was about to tell him to zip it until Stiles got there before me with a simple 'shut up'.

Leaving them to it, I instead turned my attention to my growling stomach. Climbing out of bed, I padded downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Morning," I said, greeting my parents.

"You're feeling better so?" My mother asked, coming to feel my forehead.

I moved away from her touch. "Much," I answered with a smile. "Though I'll be devastated if we're out of pop tarts."

"I bought a new box yesterday," Mom smiled.

"Best mother ever," I smiled, hopping onto the kitchen counter as I waited for the breakfast treats to heat up.

As I waited, I thought about the events of last night, and remembered what I had wanted to talk to my parents about.

"Hey, so, seeing as you're the best mother ever..."

"Uh, oh," Mom groaned. "That's the 'I want something' voice. Whatever it is, ask your father. I'm not being responsible."

Turning slowly, I forced the sweetest smile I could manage as my father looked up from the newspaper he had been reading quietly this whole time.

"Daddy-O," I drawled. "I have a proposal for you," I began. "See, I was talking to Dr. Deaton -"

"The vet?" Dad questioned.

"That's the one," I nodded. "Anyway, see, someone brought in this little Border Collie pup to the clinic, they had found it wandering on the road with a busted up leg. Dr. Deaton is trying to find a home for him, and he said last night that I was welcome to him, provided you two were okay with that."

"What were you doing at the clinic last night?" Mom asked.

"I had to pick up Scott," I lied.

It was a total lie, but my mother bought it.

"What time was that?" My father asked, staring at me suspiciously.

"Like, six, I think? I'm not sure," I lied again. "So, back to the dog?"

"Are you really sure that's a great idea?" questioned my mother.

"Well, I -"

"I think it is," Dad answered, surprising us both. I had thought he would be the one who would put up the most fight. Apparently not. I glanced out the window, waiting to see the pigs that were obviously flying.

"It'll be a good lesson on responsibility," Dad said next. "And a good form of protection. Things have been strange around here lately, and I don't feel comfortable knowing you're here alone a lot of the time."

"Thanks, Dad," I said, genuinely moved. It wasn't often that the man showed this much fatherly concern that wasn't concealed by a disapproving tone.

"If your dad says it's okay," Mom sighed, and then smiled, "Then it's okay with me too."

"Look at you, all teamwork," I teased. I clapped my hands, digging into my breakfast. "Yay!"

"We can go collect him after your breakfast," Dad said, folding the newspaper. He stood up, smiled at us, pecked my mother on the cheek, and disappeared into the living room.

"What's gotten into him?" I asked around a mouthful of food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," scolded Mom lightly. "And I'm not sure, but I'm not going to question it."

"I might," I mumbled, picking up my second pop tart. Mom glanced at me, and I raised my hands in surrender. "Fine, I'll just accept the fact that we've entered the Twilight Zone."

"Do," Mom nodded. "Now, I'm going to go and have lunch with my son."

I snorted. "You talked Carter into a lunch date? What is happening to the world?"

Mom laughed as she exited the kitchen, leaving me alone. Finishing my breakfast, I returned to my room. I quickly dressed in a maroon hoodie, jeans, and black sneakers. I took the stairs two at a time as I wrestled my hair into a high bun.

"Dad," I called. "I'm ready to go!"

Dad appeared a second later, and together, we made our way to the clinic. Small talk was shared in the car, and I found that, when we arrived, I wasn't itching to flee from the car.

"So what are you going to call him?" Dad asked as we entered the busy clinic.

I thought for a moment, and then smiled. "Bear," I decided. "He looks like a teddy bear."

"That's a strong, masculine name," Dad joked.

"Damn right it is," I joked back. Making our way to the counter, I tapped the little bell. Dr. Deaton appeared a second later, talking quietly to a little girl who was carrying her pet bunny. Her mother thanked Dr. Deaton, who then turned towards me.

"Ah, Olivia!" He greeted with a pleasant smile. "Come to pick up our little friend?"

"I've already named him Bear," I grinned.

Dr. Deaton shocked me by chuckling. "A fitting name."

"Hello, I'm Olivia's father," Dad introduced. "Anthony."

"Alan," Dr. Deaton shook hands with my father. "He's just back here."

Dad and I followed the vet into the back room, where I paused momentarily by the examination table. A flash from my dream returned to me, and my stomach turned. Dr. Deaton seemed to notice, though my father was too busy following him to see.

"I think he knows you're coming," Dr. Deaton said, clearing his throat. True enough, the sound of Bear squealing sounded as soon as he pushed the door open. I moved away from the table, locking eyes with Dr. Deaton as I trailed after my father. He nodded gently at me, and I mustered a small smile.

"Hey, little man," I greeted, hurrying over to the cage. Opening it, I remained cautious of his healing leg as I wrapped him in my arms. "You're coming home with me," I cooed.

"What do I owe you?" Dad asked, reaching for his wallet.

"No, no," Dr. Deaton shook his head. "I only wanted to find him a good home, I didn't want a profit. Besides, any friend of Scott's is a friend of mine."

"Thank you," I said sincerely.

"But if you'll just hold on a moment, I'd like Olivia to sign some release forms," Deaton said. "Clinic's policy," He explained to my father.

I wordlessly handed Bear to my father, telling him I'd meet him at the car once I was finished. As soon as he left, Deaton closed the door and I rubbed my hands together.

"So, what am I signing?" I asked.

"Nothing," Deaton answered. "There's no such policy. I just figured you would want to talk about last night, and I didn't think you would want an audience."

"How do you know about all of this? About werewolves, and the Argents?" I asked immediately, in one breath. "How long have you known? Why didn't you tell Scott you knew earlier?"

"I've lived in Beacon Hills for quite some time, Olivia. I found out very young," He answered evasively. "As for the Argents, I didn't find them, they found me, and I didn't tell Scott because I was waiting for the right moment." Dr. Deaton took a breath. "I thought about telling him a few times, especially in recent weeks," He admitted. "But, I've known Scott for years. I trusted that he could handle what was thrown at him. Especially when he had his friends by his side."

"And," I hesitated, "are you something too?"

"Yes."

My eyebrows rose into my hairline. "And what would that be?"

"Nothing dangerous," Dr. Deaton smiled. "To you."

"Okay, so did you take a class in being vague, or is it a natural ability?" I remarked sarcastically.

"It's natural," the man spoke casually. "Olivia, if I was dangerous, you would know. Wouldn't you?"

Sensing that the conversation was drawing to a close, and knowing I wouldn't get a straight answer if I asked how Dr. Deaton knew that, I simply nodded. "Thank you for the dog... and, for helping us."

"The door is always open," Deaton smiled. He headed for the door, pulled it open and held it, motioning for me to go first. We walked back to the front of the clinic in silence, I bid him goodbye and headed out to the car.

"Is everything settled?" My father asked, petting Bear's head lightly.

Nodding, I took Bear from him, and set the puppy on my lap.

"He's cute," Dad said, scratching Bear behind the ear once more. "He'll make a good guard dog."

"Even with a name like Bear?" I teased, causing my father to laugh.

"Yes, even with a name like Bear."

* * *

The trip home took longer than expected as we stopped off at the same pet store that I had visited with Stiles months before. The whole excursion probably took no more than fifteen minutes.

We had been home only a minute before Dad got called into a meeting at the college. Before he left, I asked him to drop Bear and I to Conrad's place.

Throughout the drive, I had recalled another few pieces from my dream. The yellow eyes still made me shiver. Remembering Conrad offering his books to me, I wanted to bury myself in research.

The reason I didn't want to drive myself was so very boring. I was just lazy. When I told my dad my excuse, he just rolled his eyes.

"I didn't know you were coming over," Conrad greeted, ushering me inside. He sent a wave to my father, who waved back briefly before driving off. "And who is this little guy?"

"The new addition to the pack," I said. "Conrad, meet Bear."

Conrad cooed at the squirming puppy in my arms, and reached out, cradling him gently. "I'm going to guess that you're here for my books."

"Can't I just spend some quality time with my favorite uncle?"

"That would be charming if I didn't know your other uncles," Conrad drawled.

"You know them more than I do," I pointed out. "Yes, anyway, I am here for your books."

"Has there been any new developments?" Conrad asked, setting Bear down on the couch.

"Not on the creature front," I answered. "It's been quiet. But there's never a shortage of other strange goings on. For example, we were at the skating rink the other night, and Lydia freaked. The way she was screaming, we thought she was getting attacked. Then she snapped out of it and didn't even remember what she was screaming about."

"Has she had counseling after her ordeal?" Conrad's eyebrows furrowed.

"She's been seeing the school counselor," I answered. "We're just keeping an eye on her - especially because the hunters are doing the same thing."

"But she's not a werewolf."

"Nope," I shrugged. "I guess they want to know why." Biting the inside of my lip, I sighed. "Derek turned another boy too. His name is Boyd. Scott tried to stop him, but they cornered him at the rink. All four of them. Having your friend show up at your car with his stomach slashed is not a fun thing."

"Oh my, is he okay?" Conrad asked.

I nodded, a small smile gracing my lips. "He'll heal, but slower than usual because Derek is an Alpha, so the wound is different, or something. That information we learned from, surprise, the local vet."

"Dr. Deaton?"

"He's on our team," I revealed. "Oh, and Stiles got hit in the head with a part of his engine and shoved into a dumpster by Erica. How has your week been?"

"I had a patient who accidentally sat on a cactus he was keeping as a house plant."

I grimaced. "You know, that sounds worse than the werewolf thing," I commented, walking by him and heading up to the attic.

Conrad's attic was exactly like I remembered it. When I was little, I had always been curious about what was up here. One time, Carter and I dared to venture up. Carter had been disappointed to find that it was basically a library, but I had been in my element. Little me had only just reached out for a book when my father's stern voice had startled us from the doorway. We were made apologize to Conrad for prying, but Conrad had insisted it wasn't necessary. We were welcome to the books, but Dad was insistent.

"I don't want my children involved in that mess," He had said. I learned later that the mess was Conrad's obsession with proving werewolves existed. I snorted quietly to myself. If only Dad knew now just how involved I was.

"I don't know if much of it will be any help," Conrad shrugged. "But there are a lot of books, and I haven't even gotten through them all."

"Anything is something," I smiled, running my finger tips along the spines of some of the books. Picking out a few, I returned to the living room, and split the books between us as Conrad made us both some tea.

"Holy crap this thing is extensive," I said in awe as I peered over the top of the book as Conrad came back. Bear snuggled in between us. "Are all of these things real?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Conrad said. "Though, I'd imagine some are just rumors. Folk tales."

"Like werewolves?" I challenged with a wry smile.

"Oh, they're nothing but bed time stories." Conrad waved his hand in the air.

I wasn't sure how long we sat there, poring over these books. Just as I set down book three and picked up number four, a big yawn took over me. Scooting down further into the comfortable couch, I set the book against my raised knees, and began to read.

The feel of Bear climbing over my stomach was what woke me up. Petting my dog softly, I moved him off my lap and sat up, stretching out my arms. The book I had been reading was now on Conrad's side of the coffee table, and I could hear Conrad moving around the kitchen. Standing up, I had another stretch and another yawn as I walked into the kitchen.

"You're awake," Conrad smiled.

"Yep. You should have woken me," I said, rubbing my face. A quick glance out through the window told me it had gotten dark already.

"Usually when someone falls asleep, it means that they needed the rest," Conrad said.

"I guess I did," I agreed. "I slept a lot last night but I had a migraine. That and the bad dream, I guess it wiped me out."

"Bad dream?" Conrad frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm still remembering it, but, I was at the mechanic shop and I saw whatever we're looking for use some guy as a personal scratching post," I revealed. "I tried to run, but when I opened the door, there was this man. When we were at the clinic last night, Dr. Deaton was examining a dead body. The man was a hunter, and the Argents had brought him by earlier. He was one of this thing's victims."

"And you saw him in your dream?"

I nodded. "Yes, which wouldn't be weird except for the fact that he talked to me. He told me that it was coming for an 'us', himself included. I tried to ask who it was coming for but he told me to run. I did, and the thing, it got me. Slashed my neck. It was horrible," I grimaced. "I felt like I had no control of my body. Deaton said this thing is using a paralytic toxin to incapacitate the victims before it kills them, so I guess I was experiencing that in dream form."

Conrad looked troubled. "Have you told either of the boys about this dream?"

"No," I answered. "I will, but I know what they're going to say."

"And what's that?"

"Something about me being psychic," I replied with a roll of my eyes. "This isn't the first time this has happened."

"And you don't believe them when they suggest you're a psychic?"

"I'm hesitant," I admitted. "I'd prefer to be a hundred percent sure before I started calling myself something that I might not be. For now, I just have dreams. I'll figure the rest out later. Besides, I'm not too worried about the dream. After all, I don't plan on being attacked at the mechanic shop any time soon."

Conrad chuckled, and opened his mouth to speak. My phone began to ring before he got the chance, and I sent him an apologetic smile before pulling the phone from my pocket.

"It's Scott," I said, hitting the icon of the green phone. "Hey, what's -"

"Can you get to the mechanic shop?"

I froze. "- up?" I finished. "The _mechanic_ shop?" I echoed, sharing a look of disbelief with Conrad. I put Scott on speaker. "Why? What happened?"

"Stiles was there, with his Jeep," Scott was breathing quickly, obviously hurrying somewhere. "The thing, it showed up. It paralyzed the mechanic and Stiles said the guy got crushed under the Jeep. He's dead."

"What about Stiles? Where is he? Is he -"

"He's fine," Scott said. "He got paralyzed too, but it wore off. He sounded off though. I think he's in shock. He," Scott took a breath, "he had to watch it."

I sighed, running a hand over my face. Poor Stiles. "I'll be there," I said, hanging up. "Can you...?" I looked imploringly at Conrad.

"I have to head into work soon anyway," Conrad nodded. "Just give me five minutes."

I watched Conrad disappear upstairs and ran a hand through my hair. Gathering my things, I called out to Bear. "Come on, little guy," I called, picking him up. "We're going to go see Stiles."

"And tell him about your dream," Conrad added for me. "And Scott too."

"Do I have any other choice now?" I asked rhetorically.

* * *

As soon as we arrived, Conrad pulled to a stop right beside the coroner's car. I thanked my uncle quickly, exiting the car. With Bear in my arms, I looked through the abundance of police cruisers for a familiar face.

I saw an ambulance in the distance and figured I'd find Stiles there, but I ended up finding his father first.

"Olivia?"

"Scott called me," I said, answering the question he was about to ask. "Where is he?"

"Over at the ambulance," the Sheriff told me, confirming my suspicion. "He's okay." Suddenly, the grim expression on his face shifted, and morphed into a smile. "You should go see him. Oh, and, that's a cute dog."

"His name is Bear!" I beamed proudly, earning myself a warm chuckle before the Sheriff walked off. Continuing on my route to the ambulance, I offered Stiles a small smile as I approached.

"So you talked your parents into getting him in the end?" Stiles asked, attempting a smile. Instead, it just look like a half hearted grimace. "Scott told me about him."

"I used my puppy dog eyes," I quipped, moving to sit beside him. Bear instantly moved onto Stiles's lap, as though he could tell that the boy needed comforting. I watched as his hand came up to stroke Bear's fur, and noticed that it was shaking. Glancing at his other hand, I saw it was perfectly still, and knew instantly that the tremor was from the toxin.

"It's a side effect," I said. It was my attempt at soothing him. "It'll stop eventually," I added.

Stiles glanced down at the shaking hand, and removed it instantly from Bear's fur. Bear gave a little whine, and Stiles moved his unaffected hand back to the spot behind the puppy's ear. His shaking hand curled into his side, as though he was trying to hide it from view.

Sighing softly, I reached out and placed my hand on his wrist. Massaging it lightly, my touch convinced him to uncurl his fist, and I threaded my fingers through his.

"It'll stop," I promised. "Did Scott tell you what Deaton said?"

"He didn't get much of a chance. Too many ears," Stiles explained. "Did you know that Principal Argent decided to visit some of our classes today?"

"Sounds like an Umbridge move," I commented, and when Stiles smiled at me, I flushed. "Harry Potter reference."

"I know," Stiles chuckled warmly, squeezing my hand. "He asked about you," Stiles sobered up quickly, his expression turning dark. "I don't like him."

Ignoring the fluttering sensation in my stomach, brought about by the way Stiles protectively tucked our locked hands close to his chest, I gave him a wry grin. "I don't think anyone does."

"He's hiding something."

"He's an Argent hunter," I reminded.

"No, something else," Stiles shook his head. I watched as he chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "Something to do with you."

"With me?" I frowned. "Stiles, he's as creepy to me as he is to everyone else -"

"No, he's _not_," Stiles turned to look at me. "He's friendly with your dad, and that day in his office, he decided to talk about Modesto. Why would he bring that up?"

"Because he wanted to hit a nerve," I said tensely. "In all of us. Which he did."

Stiles shook his head, biting down on the inside of his cheek. I could see there was more that he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure on how to form the right sentence.

I had the feeling that Stiles was trying to deflect from what had just happened to him. His hand had begun to shake again, and I sighed, lowering my voice.

"There'll come a night where we figure it all out," I whispered, leaning my chin on his shoulder. "Every last detail. I know we will. But tonight... tonight isn't that night." I inhaled deeply. "And if you're right. If Gerard is hiding something from me, or about me, or whatever, we'll figure it out."

"He's dangerous -"

"He's old," I said, before I could stop myself. "I mean, yeah, dangerous but take away his hunters, and what is he? I could totally kick his frail ass."

To my surprise, and the surprise of a few people around us, my joke hit home and Stiles burst out laughing.

"I've seen you struggle with heavy doors, Wright," Stiles giggled.

"How dare!" I pretended to be affronted. "I'm strong! I have muscles. I don't know where they are, but I have them, I swear."

Still laughing, Stiles unwrapped his hand from mine and wound it around my shoulder, pulling me into him.

"You won't have to kick his ass," Stiles said. "I'll get there first."

"Fine, you take the old guy, I'll take Lizard Man," I decided. I felt Stiles tense beside me, and splayed my hand across his chest.

"I'm kidding," I said. "I'm going to sacrifice Jackson to it, and run."

Stiles laughed again, softer this time. "You know, I haven't seen much of him lately."

"Me neither," I agreed. "I feel like it should be a good thing, but instead, it's concerning."

"Not tonight it isn't," Stiles nudged me, noticing my troubled expression. I smiled, and nodded in agreement.

"Not tonight."

We sat like that for a while, absentmindedly petting Bear, who was content to sit there and soak up the attention offered to him. Five minutes later, I spotted Scott's mother's car and nudged Stiles.

I scooped up Bear, cuddled him close and made my way over to Scott's car, all too aware of the hand pressed firmly against my back. The shaking hand was again tucked away into his hoodie's pocket, and I shared a glance with Scott as I climbed into the back.

It was silent for a moment before Scott braved it and asked Stiles if he was okay.

"Yeah," Stiles answered quietly. "You were right. It's not like you. I mean, its eyes were almost like, reptilian. But there was something about them."

Intrigued, I leaned forward. "Something?" I prodded gently.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked next.

Stiles took a moment to gather his thoughts, struggling for the right description.

"You know when you see, like, a friend in a Halloween mask," he began, "but all you can actually see are their eyes and you feel like you know 'em but you just can't figure out who it is?"

Scott glanced back at me, but I could only shake my head. I was confused as he was.

"Are you saying you know who it is?" Scott frowned.

"No, but I think it knew me," Stiles informed, his voice thick. "It looked... almost surprised to see me there."

"And it didn't attack you at all?" I asked.

"No," Stiles answered. "It wasn't interested in me. Only -"

"_Them_," I finished, and froze. I hadn't meant to speak.

"Them?" Stiles echoed, turning to look at me. "No, there was only one guy."

"No," I disagreed, and looked to Scott. "The mechanic, the hunter, possibly Isaac's father. Them."

"What do you know?" Scott asked, narrowing his eyes. His tone was curious, not accusatory.

I glanced out through the window, eyeing the number of officers outside. I caught one of them staring at the car, and turned back, eyes wide.

"I had another dream," I admitted. I could tell that they were about to ask for more details, but I held up a hand. "Not here. I'll tell you everything when we get to Stiles's house."

* * *

"You talked to a dead guy?" Stiles asked, pacing back and forth in front of his bed. "Okay, Ghost Whisperer."

Beside me, Scott chuckled. Glaring at him, I took the small, plastic orange ball that he and Stiles had been tossing back and forth, and threw it at Stiles.

He caught it, and smirked, tossing the ball out into the hall. Bear hopped out after it, and brought it back.

"He should really be staying off that leg," Scott mentioned, bending to scoop Bear up and place him on the bed.

"I'm not a ghost whisperer," I groaned, crossing my legs. "I don't even think it was really him. It was probably just my subconscious or - I don't know! I don't know how these dreams work!"

"I do," Stiles said seriously. "The Powers That Be send the information through your psychic abilities," He teased, waggling his fingers and making an _'oooh spooky'_ sound.

As if attempting to stop me from hitting Stiles with a pillow, which I had grabbed, Scott cleared his throat. "Who do you think they are? The people this thing is after?"

"I have no idea," I answered. "We didn't exactly have time to pour tea and learn each other's life stories."

"It's a pretty mixed bag," Stiles pointed out. "A hunter, a mechanic and a father? I mean, unless I'm missing something, the only thing they have in common is that now, they're all dead."

Sitting in silence, we each mulled over the information we had gathered. Stiles sighed eventually, running a hand over his hair.

"I'm getting a drink. Want anything?"

Both Scott and I shook our heads, and Stiles exited the room.

"How was he?" Scott asked. "When you got there?"

"Exactly how you'd expect," I said. "He just watched someone die, and he's way more messed up about it than he's letting on."

"His hand is still shaking," Scott noted. I glanced sideways at him.

"He's trying to control it," Scott elaborated. "But he can't."

"Deaton never said how long it takes for the toxin to leave your system," I recalled. "The sooner, the better."

"He's coming back," Scott shifted slightly, listening. "I'm going to stay here tonight, with him."

"Me too," I nodded. "If he thinks this thing knows him, then I'm not going anywhere."

"You think it'd come back?"

"I'm not risking it," I said firmly, and caught sight of the knowing grin on Scott's face. I ignored it. Instead, I beamed at Stiles when he walked back in.

"Hey sleepover friend!" I exclaimed, giggling when he choked on the mouthful of soda.

Clearing his airways, Stiles stared at me. "What now?"

"Mid-week sleepover," Scott laughed. "We're doing it. Just like when we were younger - but, with Olivia."

"I'll try not to cramp your bro-style," I joked. Looking back to Stiles, my smile faltered. Stiles wasn't laughing.

"What's up, buttercup?" I asked.

"You don't have to do this," Stiles said quietly. "I'm fine. You don't need to coddle me."

"You just saw a guy die while you lay paralyzed on the floor," I said quickly. "Sorry, that was abrupt," I apologized sheepishly. "Working on that, I swear."

Stiles raised an eyebrow, looking amused. Standing up, I made my way over to him, and placed my hand on his arm.

"I know you say you're fine, and we all know that Scott and I don't believe that. Let us be there for you," I pleaded softly. "Also, I'm talking to you really nicely, but if we're real, you don't have a choice. Isn't friendship magical?"

Scott and Stiles both shared a look, and laughed. Shaking his head, Stiles sighed. "Okay."

"I'll take the couch," Scott said, hopping up. He rooted through the dresser and pulled out some clothes.

"You have clothes here?" I asked, amused.

"Of course," Scott nodded. "This is my second home."

"You can borrow from me," Stiles said.

"Wouldn't be the first time," I shrugged.

"Don't worry, after this, I'll clear you a drawer," Stiles quipped, and then blushed. "Heh, I mean -"

"You mean two drawers?" I teased lightly. "Because one drawer will not be enough."

"Yeah, yeah, two drawers," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Why do you have so much stuff?"

Gasping, I motioned to myself. "Just like Rome, I was not built in a day!"

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"It _so_ makes sense!"

"Okay, okay," Scott called over us. "I'm going to sleep. Please try to keep the flirting down. Some of us have sensitive stomachs."

"Oh, _please_, have you seen yourself with Allison?" Stiles called after him. "It's pitiful!"

His only response was the sound of Scott laughing as he descended the stairs.

Then, it was just the two of us - three, if Bear was counted - and suddenly, everything grew quiet. Some sort of nervous energy filled the room, and I smiled shyly at Stiles. God, I hated this.

"I'll, uh, I'll take my dad's room," Stiles said. "He won't be home tonight, so -"

"No."

Stiles froze. "No?"

"No," I said, quieter this time. "After what you went through, you deserve your own bed. But, no offense to your dad, sleeping in his bed even just _sounds_ weird. I'll take the other couch."

"No you won't," Stiles shook his head. "I was raised right. I'm not leaving you on the couch."

"Well, I feel special!" Scott shouted from downstairs, causing us both to laugh.

"We can share," Stiles suggested nervously. Adorably, he bit down on his lip, head bowed as he glanced up at me through his eyelashes. As if he was waiting for me to either recoil in horror, or laugh at him. Instead, I smiled.

"It wouldn't be the first time," I said again.

Stiles smiled back at me, and handed me a pair of baggy sweatpants. I headed into the bathroom, and stared at my reflection. I had slept in the same bed as Stiles before, I reminded myself. It wasn't a big deal.

Though, last time, we had woken up in a tangle of limbs - and that had been _before_ we kissed.

Blushing brightly, I shook my head and stripped off my clothes, leaving myself in the tank top I had been wearing. I pulled on the baggy pants, rolling them up around the waist. I left my hair hang loose, and took one deep breath, staring at my reflection.

I sent a quick text to my mother, informing her of what had happened, and how both myself and Scott were staying over. To my relief, my mother had no comment about it, and simply told me to take care of Stiles.

"It's not a big deal," I whispered to myself, hoping Scott couldn't hear. Groaning, I pushed down on the door handle and returned to Stiles's room.

His back was turned when I entered, and I realized that I had caught him mid change. His jeans had been swapped for grey pants, and I watched the expanse of the tanned skin of his back disappear underneath a deep, maroon t-shirt.

Feeling awkward, and as though my cheeks were a darker shade than my hair, or even Stiles's t-shirt, I shoved down the tingling sensation in my middle and walked in, as though I hadn't just been watching him.

"Inside or outside?" Stiles asked.

"Inside," I answered.

We climbed into his bed in silence. I envied the way Bear easily made his way halfway up the bed, and curled into the sheets as though it was his bed.

"Goodnight," I whispered as Stiles shut off the lamp beside his bed.

"Yeah, night," Stiles said, as though I had interrupted a deep thought.

Laying in the darkness, I listened to the sound of Bear's soft snores, and closed my eyes. I opened them a second later as I heard Stiles sigh heavily beside me.

Squinting through the murky room, I could see that Stiles had his hand stretched out in front of him awkwardly, as he was laying more so on his stomach than his side. I could just barely make out the way that his hand trembled, and gave a sigh of my own.

I licked my lips, contemplating my next move before deciding to throw caution to the wind. Scooting closer to Stiles, who had tried to give me space by positioning himself at the edge of the bed, I hooked my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt and pulled him back towards me.

Once he had been rolled onto his side, Stiles turned his head, frowning as if to ask what I was doing. Instead of answering vocally, I shifted so that my front was completely aligned with his back. I tucked one hand under my own head, and wound the other around his front, underneath his arm, to grab his twitching hand.

I lay my head back down, burying my face in between his shoulder blades. A second later, Stiles tugged my hand closer to his chest.

"Isn't the guy supposed to be the big spoon?"

"Who says?" I mumbled, and felt him chuckle. "Now, go to sleep, Stilinski."

"Your wish is my command, Wright."

* * *

Okay, so, there are a lot of little reasons as to why this is so extremely late, and I won't waste time listing them. Just know, the main reason was, as the time of year can tell you, school.

But none of this left my mind once, and now that I'm settled, I'm hoping to get on a more frequent updating schedule.

I hope the wait was worth it, and I can't wait to hear from you all.

_(Also, I'm so sorry to whoever reviewed and never received a reply. I've been trying my best, but everything got away from me. Damn education! Just know, you are all appreciated and loved. Every one of you. Yes, you. Cutie.)_

Until next time,

Megan.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hazy**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

There was no need for an alarm to wake me up the next morning.

Bear's cold nose pressed into my arm, nudging me awake. The puppy moved to sit on the end of the bed, his head titled to one side as his pink tongue hung out from the side of his mouth.

The memories of last night's events wasted no time in flooding back to me, and I scooted up in the bed, glancing sideways.

Stiles lay beside me, on his stomach, with his arms wrapped around his pillow. His mouth was open, soft little snores escaping him.

I felt less awkward about sharing his bed after the fact, though the squirming in my stomach returned as I watched his eyelids flutter. I knew he was dreaming, and hoped it was of something good.

I reached out, wanting to run my fingers through his dark hair, and then decided against it. I didn't want to risk waking him. We still had a good few hours before school became a priority, and I wanted him to sleep.

I slowly and quietly untangled myself from the blankets, climbing off the bed. I picked up Bear, and brought him with me to the bathroom, where I stripped off the clothes I had slept in, and threw back on my clothes from the day before. A trip home before school was most definitely needed.

As I headed downstairs, voices from the kitchen drew me into the room. Scott and the Sheriff both smiled at me in greeting, the Sheriff's softer than Scott's wide grin.

"Morning," Scott drawled. "I hope you don't mind, I put away the blankets."

Frowning in confusion as I set Bear down, I arched an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"You know," Scott's eyes briefly widened, and his voice was urging, "from the couch. That you slept on."

"Oh!" I exclaimed. So, the Sheriff didn't know. I found myself relieved. "Right, yeah. It's fine, I was up anyway."

"I'm surprised Stiles didn't insist you take his bed," The Sheriff said. "He usually does -"

"Oh, he did!" I said quickly. "But after everything, I made him stay in his own bed, while I took... the couch," I finished lamely.

"Yeah, and she snored all night. Kept me awake," Scott laughed into his cup of coffee. I smacked him in the back, making him cough.

"I do _not_ snore!"

"I think Scott was probably just hearing himself," The Sheriff chuckled. "This kid has spent half his life in my house, and I could almost hear him from the next state over."

Giggling, I slid onto the kitchen stool beside a grumbling Scott, and accepted the cup of coffee that the Sheriff handed me. Adding a healthy amount of milk and sugar, I savored the warm liquid, wrapping my cold hands around the mug.

"So," The Sheriff paused, "How is he?"

Scott and I shared a look.

"He's... okay," Scott said slowly. "Mostly just cracking jokes and ignoring our concern."

"So, the usual?" Sheriff Stilinski sighed. "I saw that guy last night, the mechanic... and it wasn't... it wasn't pretty," he said, running a hand over his tired face. "To watch it happen -" The Sheriff cut himself off with another sigh. "That kid doesn't tell me anything."

"Stiles has always been like that, though," Scott reasoned, his attempt at comforting the Sheriff. "When he has a problem, he just... he keeps it to himself until he can't anymore."

"We all do, to some degree," I offered. "Asking for help is sometimes the hardest thing for us to do. And, when it's a guy like Stiles?" I fell silent. I reached across the counter, and squeezed the Sheriff's hand. "He'll be okay. We'll keep an eye on him, and when he's ready to talk, he will. Or, I'll annoy it out of him."

Scott snorted, the mood lifted. The Sheriff even cracked a smile.

"Do you know who did it?" I asked then, and winced, feeling the mood instantly drop again.

"No idea," The Sheriff sighed. "But I shouldn't be discussing this with you kids. Just... be careful out there. The entire station is working on this, but be careful."

"We always are," Scott promised.

"Well that will definitely help me sleep better at night," The Sheriff said warmly. Glancing at the clock, he stifled a yawn. "Or sleep better in the morning," he corrected. "I'm off to bed. I'm too old for working nights."

As he drained the last of his mug and set it in the sink, the Sheriff stifled another yawn, and made for the door. "Don't be late for school, and ... thank you both. For staying with him."

"It's what we do," Scott said, sharing a nod with his best friend's father.

As soon as the Sheriff left, Scott swiveled to face me, a big grin back on his face.

"Don't even," I warned, hopping off my own stool and setting my own mug in the sink.

"I'm not saying anything."

"Good. _Don't_."

"I won't."

Turning, I glared briefly at Scott, who grinned smugly back.

"I'm taking Bear outside," I said, rolling my eyes.

"No, let me!" Scott said quickly.

"Why? Do you need a fire hydrant too?" I teased.

"Oh, ha ha. How awkward would you feel if I said yes?"

At my grimace, Scott broke out in loud laughter. Shoving him to the side, I grumbled at him to shut up.

"Don't worry, werewolves still -"

"I don't need to know!" I exclaimed quickly. "No one needs to know!"

"Go wake up Stiles," Scott said, still chuckling. "I'll bring Bear out for a little walk. I won't be long. That leg just needs a little bit of movement."

"When can the cast come off?"

"Probably sometime next week," Scott answered, calling for Bear. "Once Stiles is awake, we can go to yours, and then drive to school."

Once Scott was gone, I hesitated in the kitchen. Stiles rarely drank coffee, considering he was already hyperactive enough. So, I simply poured a glass of water, and carried it upstairs with me.

Pushing open the door, I spotted Stiles sitting on the edge of the bed. He had already gotten dressed, and was in the process of lacing up his sneakers when I handed him the glass of water.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, moving to sit beside him.

"Like I am up way too early," he groaned, rubbing his hand across his face.

"You look like your father when you do that," I noted with a smile.

"Is he home?" Stiles asked quickly. At my nod, he flushed. "Does he -?"

"Scott told him I slept on the couch," I answered, feeling my own face heat up.

I wasn't sure why we were so nervous. After all, we hadn't done anything. It wasn't like we had been -

I blushed even harder. Trying to save face, I cleared my throat and stood up. "Scott took Bear outside. He said we can go to mine when he gets back, so... I'll leave you to get ready."

Quickly scurrying out of the room, I made it halfway down the stairs before slapping my palm to my forehead. Way to not be a flight risk, I growled mentally.

Luckily, I had thought to grab my phone on the way out. I sent a quick text to my mother, letting her know I would be home soon. I found that sitting on the couch waiting was simply too boring, and instead decided to view the multiple pictures that littered the living room walls.

I had seen some of them before, like the one with Stiles with his mother, but some others were new to me. For example, the picture of the white haired woman fussing over a squirming Stiles was new to me. I assumed it was his grandmother.

The one next to it made me laugh. Stiles and Scott, both probably around the age of seven, were both covered in mud and smiling big toothy grins at the camera.

I looked at a few more before deciding to head outside for some fresh air. Once I stepped onto the porch, I spotted Scott and Bear outside, playing in the grass.

"Puppies will be puppies," a voice chuckled from behind me.

I smiled over my shoulder at Stiles. Spotting us both, Scott scooped up Bear and handed him to me. We then climbed into his car, and headed to my house.

* * *

Scott and Stiles made themselves comfortable in my living room whilst I got dressed upstairs.

After a quick shower, I dried my hair as fast as possible, and braided the damp curls into a side braid. I threw on a pair of black jeans, and a black peter pan collar sweater. Checking myself out in the mirror, I nodded approvingly before quickly doing my makeup and slipping on a pair of black boots. The boots had a thick heel, making me a few inches taller than I was.

Instantly happier due to my outfit, that happiness turned to disbelief as I neared the living room, and heard my dad's voice.

"How are you feeling, son?" He was asking, and I paused at the door.

"Uh, fine, yeah. I'm fine," Stiles answered.

"What you saw last night must have been awful," My dad continued. "Does your father have any idea what did it?"

"What?" Stiles echoed, and I could hear the confusion, laced with something else, in his voice. "You said what, not who."

"Slip of the tongue," My father excused easily. "I just assumed, with this town, it was a what. After the wolf attacks only a few months ago, I thought it was the same thing."

"Oh," Stiles said quietly. I could almost see him shaking his head. "No. No, he doesn't know."

"Well, I'm sure he'll figure it out," My father's tone was back to light. "Maybe it was just an accident."

"I saw something," Stiles said, and the whole room fell quiet fast, as though everyone was surprised Stiles had let slip.

"Probably just a shadow," I heard Scott pipe in. "Mr. Wright is right, accidents like that can happen."

"Exactly," My father agreed.

"Yeah," Stiles added lamely, and I took that as my cue to step in.

"Dad," I greeted, gaining his attention. "Aren't you going to be late? You have a meeting in twenty minutes at the college, right?"

"Yes! Yes, I do," My father nodded, checking his watch. Standing up, he made his way over to me. Bending down, he placed a kiss to my hair, bid his goodbye and walked out of the house without another word.

"I'm sorry about him," I said immediately. "Tact isn't in his people skills vocabulary. Actually, he doesn't have a people skills vocabulary, he has, like, a post-it note."

"It's fine," Stiles replied automatically. I shared a look of concern with Scott over his head. "I probably came off as paranoid, pointing out he said what and not who."

"No, you didn't," I shook my head. "Besides, it's just my dad. He doesn't know anything, so it's not like he'll think anything of it. Scott could literally go full werewolf in front of him, and he'd only be focused on what he has to do at work that day." I paused, "Okay, that sounded slightly bitter. I heard it myself. But you get my point."

To my relief, a hint of a smile appeared on Stiles's face. Smiling back briefly, I myself stole a look at the watch. It was time to go.

Grabbing my bag, I bent down and stroked Bear's fur.

"See you later, little man."

* * *

At school, the boys and I were forced to quickly go our separate ways. I retrieved what I needed from my locker, and made my way to class, seating myself beside Lydia.

In front of us, sat Danny. Looking to the empty seat beside him, I frowned. No Jackson.

"Cute gloves," I said in a way of greeting. Lydia held up her hands, showing off the red leather gloves.

"Bought them new," Lydia beamed, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, lowering my voice into a whisper.

Sighing, the strawberry blonde shook her head. "I woke up yesterday morning with my hands covered in blood."

My eyebrows went into my hairline, "What?"

"My mirror was all smashed up," she said, green eyes wide. "Mom thinks I had a night terror and must have punched it in my sleep. Why would I do that?"

"Did you tell Ms. Morrell?"

"No," Lydia scoffed. "I don't need another person to tell me I'm crazy."

"Lyd," I sighed, wrapping my arm around her back. "You're not crazy. You're just going through some stuff."

"I don't know, I'm starting to think I'm crazy too," Lydia admitted, looking close to tears. "Do you know of any new students in the school? Boys?"

Puzzled, I shook my head, "No, why?"

"Because I met a boy outside Morrell's office yesterday, but I haven't seen him since," Lydia informed.

"Oh, Lydia," I murmured. "Don't do that to yourself. He wasn't in your head," I comforted. "This is a big school. If it was his first day, he probably met with Morrell to get his schedule so he could go over his transfer details. You'll see him around here somewhere."

"Not if he was in my head," Lydia grumbled, and I grimaced. Patting her back again, I decided.

"You need a day off," I said. "The game is tonight, are you going?"

"I wasn't going to..." Lydia trailed off.

"Are you talking about the game?" Danny asked, turning around and pulling his chair to our table. He folded his arms on the table. "You guys are going right?"

"I'm trying to convince Lydia," I told him.

"Lyd, you have to go!" Danny exclaimed. "Do you know who is playing tonight? Eddie Abramovitz!"

"He's going to kill us!" Lydia cried indignantly.

"I take it we don't like this guy," I commented.

"Big time hate," Danny nodded. "They call him The Abomination. I don't even think he's human."

I snorted at that, "He can't be _that_ bad."

"He is," Lydia disagreed. "That's it, I'm going. Our team needs all the support it can get. Abramovitz can not beat us again! Is Allison coming?"

"Probably, yeah," I nodded.

"Good! I'll meet you both outside the school before the game starts," Lydia said. "There's no way we can miss this game."

I smiled at my friend, glad to see the fiery spark back in her green eyes. _The power of sports_, I thought, amused.

The rest of the morning went by slowly, and by the time I rounded the stairs onto the second floor, I was ready to fall down and go to sleep.

"Oh, sorry!" I apologized instantly as I crashed into a hard chest. Stumbling back, I glanced up to see that it had been Jackson in the way.

"Oh, it's you," I grimaced. "Where were you all morning?"

"Wasn't feeling well," The boy grumbled. "You should get your eyes checked, by the way, so you can watch where you're going."

"No, my eyes are fine. Your manners, however, well they could do with an adjustment."

"Why are you bothering me?" Jackson scowled.

"_You're_ the one who continued the conversation!" I pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I'm ending it too," Jackson remarked. He reached out, and set his hands on my shoulders in order to move me slightly to the side, and out of his way.

As soon as his hands made contact, a sharp, icy sensation shot through my arms. On instinct, I smacked his hands away, ignoring the racing of my heart. I must have been staring at him oddly, as the scowl on his face quickly disappeared.

"What's up with you?" Jackson asked, the sarcasm gone and replaced by genuine confusion.

"You have cold hands," I said, as though trying to convince myself of it. Yeah, that was it. Cold hands. As cold as his soul, probably.

"You're such a freak," He rolled his eyes, and brushed by me.

"Jerk!" I called after him.

Jackson turned on his heel, blew a kiss my way and continued off down the hall.

Rolling my eyes, I rubbed my hands along my arms, trying to get the warmth of my sweater back into them. Keeping them folded, I realized that I had been standing there for a few minutes, frowning.

Shaking it off, I rounded the corner again, this time mindful of other people, only to pause halfway down.

"I'm so sorry about the other day," Stiles was telling Scott earnestly. "I'm trying. We'll get through this. Uh, I know, because I love you. I love you more than -"

I couldn't help it. A loud laugh bubbled up and escaped through my red painted lips. Jumping in fright, Stiles took one look at me and threw his hands up in the air.

"Oh, my God. I can't– You and Allison just have to find a better way to communicate!" Stiles half-yelled, frustrated.

Still laughing, I took a seat on the step behind them, leaning forward.

"Still working around that?" I asked Scott, who nodded and turned back to Stiles.

"Come on, you're the only one that we can trust. Is she coming to the game tonight?" Scott wanted to know.

"Oh, she is!" I nodded. "I asked her in class."

"There you go, message complete!" Stiles threw his hands up again. "Now, tell me about your boss."

"He thinks that Allison's family keeps some kind of, uh, records of all the things that they've hunted," Scott revealed. "Like a book."

"He probably means a bestiary," Stiles nodded.

_Of course!_ I thought to myself. The word hadn't come to me when talking to Deaton. A bestiary!

"A what?" Scott asked, looking as though he was trying to hold back a laugh. I immediately groaned.

"_No_, Scott!"

"A bestiary," Stiles repeated.

Scott giggled, "I think you mean bestiality."

"No, he doesn't!" I covered my face with my hands.

"Nope, she's right, I'm pretty sure I don't," Stiles affirmed. "It's like an encyclopedia of mythical creatures."

"How am I the only one who doesn't know anything about this stuff?" Scott whined.

"Okay, you're my best friend, you're a creature of the night, it's kind of like a priority of mine," Stiles scoffed. "And Olivia is just weird," he teased.

"Rude!"

"Okay," Scott brought us back to the matter at hand. "If we can find it, and it can tell us what this thing is–"

"And who." Stiles finished.

The three of us sat in silence, until a light bulb lit up over each of our heads.

"We need that book!" The three of us said in unison, only to then start laughing.

"Right, so how are we going to get it?" I asked. "If I was an Argent, where would I hide a bestiary?"

"I bet Gerard knows where it is," Stiles said. "He's the head of the family, after all."

"Yeah but we can't exactly ask him where it is! And Allison is already being watched too carefully," Scott sighed.

"She's still going to help us look for it," I waved him off. "This is Allison. She won't sit back on this." I folded my arms over my knees and lay my head on them. "There is Chris Argent," I pointed out.

"He won't help us," Stiles shook his head.

"But he is the more lenient of the Argents."

"He held a gun to my face," Scott recalled.

"But he didn't shoot!"

"Chris is not going to help us," Stiles said again. "We need another way."

* * *

That other way was simply asking Allison.

During a free, Allison and I decided to head outside for some fresh air. With books laying in front of us on the picnic table, but being largely ignored, Allison and I took the time to gossip rather than study.

"I wish I had been there with you guys last night," Allison sighed. "With all of this, I feel like I'm being completely MIA."

"You have no other choice, Allison," I comforted. "Your entire family is watching your every step. On the bright side, we could end up using that to our advantage."

"Remember when our lives were normal?" Allison hummed.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What is this word? Nor-mal?" I wryly said, causing Allison to laugh.

"Hey!" A shout caused us to jump. Stiles skidded to a halt beside the table, breathing hard from the run.

"Hi!" Allison grinned, amused. "Are you okay?"

"Can't. Breathe." Stiles paused, and took a deep breath. "Do you know of a bestiary?"

Allison snorted, and then covered her mouth, "I think you mean–"

"He doesn't," I shook my head. "But you and Scott really are perfect for each other."

"No, I mean bestiary," Stiles rolled his eyes. "And yes, the two of you, I don't want to know what's going on in your heads."

"A bestiary is basically the information highway for all kinds of creatures," I explained. "Next stop, creepy lizard things."

"Okay, um, can you describe this thing?"

"Uh, it's probably like a book. Old, worn..."

"Like, bound in leather?" Allison asked, deep in thought. "Yeah, I've seen it. My grandfather has a book like that."

"Great!" Stiles exclaimed, breaking into a sprint back across the school grounds. I watched as he nearly smacked straight into the door, only to stumble at the last minute, wrench the door open and disappear inside.

"Couldn't you have just asked me that and then told them later?" Allison questioned, amused.

"I could have," I nodded. "And I was going to, but now I kinda wanna see how long it takes him to realize that."

"You are cruel," Allison laughed.

"Well, I won't argue on that," I smirked. "Here he comes."

"Where. Does he. Keep it?" Stiles asked, nearly sliding to the ground. He blinked hard for a few moments.

"I only saw it at home once," Allison told. "So he must be keeping it in his office."

"It's here at school?" I realized. "That makes this easier."

"His office," Stiles nodded. "Ok. I'll be back."

"You should really tell him," Allison said, watching him run back into the school, amused.

The next time he returned, Stiles had a blue inhaler hanging out the side of his mouth. He took a deep drag of Scott's inhaler before speaking.

"You know, drug dealers have been using disposable cellphones pretty successfully for years," Stiles rushed out in one breath, and then gave a quick shake of his head. He coughed once, then twice.

Feeling bad, I stood up and patted his back.

"My parents check every call, email and text message I send," Allison lamented. "Trust me, they'd find it."

"I just realized," Stiles paused, and turned to look at me. "You have a phone. You could have texted me all of this."

A laugh sounded from Allison, and I grinned innocently.

"You know, I hadn't thought of that," I lied, fluttering my eyelashes.

Gasping, Stiles took a step away from me, "You just made me exercise for nothing! This changes everything."

"It wasn't for nothing," I disagreed. "It was for my own amusement."

Narrowing his eyes at me in a half hearted glare, Stiles turned back towards Allison. "Can you get the book?"

"Not without his keys," answered the brunette.

* * *

"He is _not_ a teenager!"

Lydia, Danny and Allison laughed at my exclamation.

"I agree," Allison said. "He's got to be in his twenties."

"Nope, he's our age," Danny informed.

The four of us stood huddled close outside our school, our jackets wrapped tightly around us as we watched the lacrosse players from an enemy school disembark from the big yellow bus.

"He's bigger than my father," Allison commented, watching as Abramovitz stalked across the lot.

"He may be big but he's as dumb as a post," Lydia said, pursing her lips. "We'll beat him. Come on, we should go to the field."

"I have to meet my grandfather at his office," Allison said, meeting my eyes.

Nodding slowly in understanding, I said, "We'll save you a seat."

The lacrosse field was, as usual, crawling with people. Spectators were already hollering their support, and the game hadn't even started. Lydia went off to get snacks, whilst Danny and I chatted.

"Danny!" A voice called, and the both of us turned to see Jackson. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay," Danny said slowly. "Where were you today? You weren't in class."

"It's not important," Jackson shook him off, eyeing me briefly. "Can we talk? Privately."

Danny glanced back at me, and I nodded him away. "Go, help Jackson with his problems. Charge him by the hour."

"Hilarious," Jackson drawled.

"I think so," I drawled back.

Leaving the two boys to it, I located Lydia and took a seat beside her. "What did Jackson want?" She asked, staring at him scornfully.

"Danny," I replied. "For what, I don't know," I added, watching the two boys approach Matt Daehler.

"Good evening ladies," Gerard Argent greeted us. Beside him, Allison rocked back and forth on her heels, her hands stuck into the pockets of her thin jacket.

"Principal Argent," Lydia greeted pleasantly.

"Evening," I said coolly, ignoring the way his calculating eyes paused on me.

Allison and Gerard took their seats next to us, with Allison forming a barrier between Gerard and myself. There was relative silence for a while, until Gerard spoke up.

"I'm not too familiar with lacrosse, so I hope you girls don't mind explaining some things to me."

"Oh, of course we don't," Lydia shook her head. "It's really not too complicated."

As the two of them locked in conversation, I met Allison's eyes. Looking back out onto the field, I searched for Stiles, and found him near the bench. Scott stood beside him, and both boys were nodding towards the locker rooms, and their entrance to the field. I nudged Allison, and pointed her attention towards the boys.

"Shoot! I forgot the twizzlers!" Lydia exclaimed suddenly, picking through the assortment of goods she had gathered. _Praise the gods!_ I thought victoriously, instantly clamping down on Allison's wrist.

"We'll get them," I offered, tugging Allison up with me.

"Yeah," Allison nodded. "I have to go to the bathroom anyway. We'll be right back."

Without another word, the two of us made our way back into the school. As we walked by it, a classroom door opened.

"In here," Scott's voice whispered into the hallway.

"So you've got a plan?" Stiles asked as soon as he set eyes on Allison.

"A loose one," Allison nodded. "It's all we have, but, it seems too simple."

"If it doesn't work, we'll find a way around it," I reassured. "There's always a way."

"Once you get the keys, you give them to Olivia and Stiles will meet her at the office," Scott decided.

"It shouldn't take too long," Stiles said, sliding onto the teacher's desk. "I mean, it's a huge book, how hard can it be to find?"

"Am I the only one who feels like he has just jinxed us?" I asked.

"Okay, we need to head back," Allison said. "Gerard and Lydia will get suspicious. You know what, on second thought, leaving him with her was probably very bad."

Eyes widening, I nodded and made for the door. The fact that the hunters were still way too interested in Lydia's condition had completely escaped us.

But before we could leave, Allison's comment had brought about another set of problems. At the last minute, before I opened the door, I caught sight of the troubled expression on Stiles's face.

"I'm not saying anything," Stiles said, caught. "But, if I was -"

"Saying anything about what?" Allison questioned, confused.

"Stiles thinks Gerard knows something about me that we don't," I explained.

"He's too smug!" Stiles cried, standing up. "I just don't think it'd be a good idea for you to be around him, that's all. All he does is taunt you by saying really cryptic things."

"He's going to find it strange if I'm suddenly not sitting with my two best friends!" I countered.

"No, he won't," scoffed Stiles. "He'll know it's because you hate him."

"And if I start going out of my way to avoid him, then he'll only win. I can handle Gerard," I promised.

"My grandfather is not going to start anything tonight," Allison piped in. "It's too crowded. He wouldn't."

"Yet you don't sound so sure," Stiles accused.

"Stiles!" I scolded. "I won't be with him long. By the time you get to the office, I'll have already gotten the keys. I'll be around him for 20 minutes, tops. I think I'll survive that."

Arms on his hips, Stiles licked his lips and finally relented. "Fine," he sighed. "But if he says anything -"

"He won't," I assured. "Now come on, we have a plan to execute."

* * *

Sure enough, not 10 minutes into the game, Allison began to shiver. Brushing her hands along her arms, she leaned forward, almost hugging her knees.

"I knew I should have brought a warmer jacket," Allison laughed, giving a soft sniffle.

"You're cold," Gerard stated. Immediately, he began to move, slipping his arms from his jacket. "Here, take my coat."

Grandfather of the year award right there, I thought, biting down on my lip to keep from smirking.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked as he draped the coat over her shoulders.

"Of course," Gerard smiled at her.

"Thanks."

"That's so sweet," Lydia cooed. "Isn't it?" She asked, elbowing me in the side. I flashed Gerard a wide smile.

"_Adorable_."

"Good God," Gerard commented, turning his attention back to the game, "is it always this violent?"

"Hm, violence isn't your thing?"

It only took me five seconds to realize that I had spoken out loud. Allison's elbow connected with my other side, and I at least managed to look sheepish.

Gerard, however, let the comment slide by simply chuckling. As he asked another question about the game, and Lydia jumped into explain, I felt Allison move beside me.

Her hand dipped into Gerard's jacket pocket, and from it, she produced the set of keys. Clutching it tightly to keep them from jingling, she held them out for me, and I quickly took them, stuffing them into my own pocket.

"Excuse me," I said, standing up. "I have to make a phone call."

Disappearing quickly, I headed into the school. Only a few hallways were lit, but unfortunately, the hallway towards the office was dark. It only added to my nerves, and I fought not to pace as I waited for Stiles to show up.

The dark hallway only proved to remind me of Peter Hale, and the night he had trapped us all at the school. That had been the night I'd been dragged into this world of monsters, and creatures, and hunters.

The man responsible for our terror that night was now dead, alongside the woman that had quite literally set off the blazing fire that had ended in both of their deaths.

Leaning my head against the wall, I remembered the night they had died. I had thought, for a fleeting moment, that it was over. They were dead, and it was time to return to our normal lives, or at least what was left of them. Scott would always be a werewolf, but that was okay, because we wouldn't have to fight anymore.

A snort left me. The innocence in that short lived belief had been sucked up faster than the belief had been able to take root, so I supposed there was no real love lost.

I closed my eyes. There was no point in thinking about Peter or Kate right now. Or ever, really. They were dead, and we had other problems to attend to.

Where the hell was Stiles?

On cue, the sound of sneakers squeaking against linoleum sounded from around the corner. Stiles sped down the hallway, jogging to a stop in front of me.

"Hey, did you get the keys?"

Holding them out to him, Stiles grinned, and took them. He quickly unlocked the door, and pulled me inside.

"Okay, I'll take the desk, you can take the cabinets," Stiles directed.

"Don't mess it up!" I chided as Stiles began tossing files over his shoulder. "We're supposed to be avoiding suspicion, remember?"

"Right, sorry," Stiles apologized, picking them up quickly.

Pulling open the unlocked cabinets, I found no sign of the book, and instead found student files.

"There's no book here," Stiles sighed behind me.

"It's not here either. Only student files. I found yours," I said, holding it up for him to see. Stiles instantly grabbed it, flipping through it.

"Ha! They really did put that in my record," Stiles laughed, and then grimaced. Intrigued, I attempted to read whatever it was over my shoulder, but Stiles snapped it shut.

"Ah, ah, no," Stiles wagged his finger in my direction. "Not for your eyes."

"Oh, come on!"

"Only if you let me see your file," Stiles bargained.

I hesitated. He must have noticed, as he took a step closer.

"I was only kidding," Stiles said. "You don't have to show me."

"No, it's not... it's not bad," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's just, well, I moved for a reason. When Gerard had my file, he knew that reason would bother me." I returned to the cabinet, and located my file. "You already know some of it. I told you about the panic attacks. It's more so embarrassing than anything. Well, in my opinion, it is."

Stiles reached out, not that I was that far away from him, and took my file. He held it in his hands for a moment, his fingers tapping against it as his eyes read the tab that held my name.

A small smile appeared on his face, and then Stiles walked to the cabinet, and slipped both our files into it, unread. Turning back to me, he shrugged.

"I don't need to read your file," Stiles said. "If I'm going to learn about your life in Modesto, it's going to be because you told me about it. Not because I read it in some file."

The look in his eyes caused me to smile shyly at the floor. I looked back up at him through thick eyelashes, to find that he had set that warm gaze on me again.

"The book..." I cleared my throat, attempting to bring our attention back. "I don't think it's in here."

Stiles opened his mouth to speak when I held out a hand, stopping him. Confused, Stiles glanced towards the door, listening.

"I don't hear anything," he whispered.

"That's because no one is making noise," I answered. "That doesn't mean they're not there," I added, louder this time. "Spying isn't cute, you know," I called into the hallway.

"Everything I do is cute," Erica's smug voice sounded.

"I disagree," I chirped. "Why are you here?"

"Derek wants to talk to you," the blonde revealed. "He sent me to find you."

"And he couldn't just text?" I asked, glancing at my phone.

Ignoring me, Erica continued, "He's waiting at the pools."

"Where's the rest of your little pack?" Stiles asked. "Isaac and Boyd?"

"Boyd is currently playing lacrosse - Coach asked him to, I was against it - and Isaac is at Derek's lair, nursing a broken arm."

"Lair?" I echoed. "Wait, broken arm?! What happened to him?"

"Derek was training us," Erica explained, rolling her eyes. "It's just a broken arm. We're werewolves. He'll heal."

"I'm glad broken bones are not something of importance to your pack," I sarcastically commented. "Now, let's go see what Derek wants. You said he was at the pools? Good, that'll make it easier to drown him."

"Whoa, wait!" Stiles grasped my hand. "You can't go rushing in there throwing around threats, even if you're not going to act on them. You saw what he did to Scott."

"He won't -"

"Do that to you, I know," Stiles finished. "Maybe not, but that doesn't mean he's harmless."

"Derek is the alpha, he's far from harmless," Erica agreed. Her voice reminded me of those girls in pre-school who always liked to wave their fancy toys in your face just to show they had something that you didn't.

I thought back to the meek girl I had comforted in the locker room only a short while before. That girl had been nice. Shy, quiet, targeted but nice. Looking at her now, I found it sad that the power had gone straight to her head, turning her into something nasty.

"Derek is a pain in my ass, that's what Derek is!" I grumbled, exiting the Principal's office. Stiles left the keys in the door, and the three of us quickly made our way across the school, towards the pools.

* * *

It was when we decided to take a short cut by crossing the parking lot that I spotted Lydia's car. The lights were switched on, and inside, I could make out Lydia's figure.

She was hunched over, her shoulders shaking. With a start, I realized she was crying.

Stiles seemed to spot the same thing, as his hand reached out to squeeze mine.

"Go talk to her," he said quietly. "I'll go to Derek."

"And leave you with her?" I pointed to Erica, who put a hand on her hip.

"Jealous?" Erica smirked.

"Okay, drop the Primadonna girl act. It doesn't suit you. Me? Me, it actually suits," I pursed my lips, completely fed up. "Which is exactly why I can tell you just how wrong you were to pair those heels with that outfit. Sparkly pumps? This is a lacrosse game, not a rich bachelor's birthday party, sweetheart."

Erica took a step towards me, and Stiles was quick to jump in between us. His hands came up to rest on my shoulders, calming me.

"Okay," He said slowly. "Before anymore shots are fired, you go talk to Lydia. I'll go meet up with Derek, and you can get to us whenever you're able to."

Pondering it, I relented, but still glared at Erica.

"If he winds up in a dumpster again then the next time you see those heels, it'll be in an x-ray."

With that, I turned, and headed for Lydia's car. I knocked gently on the window, watching Erica and Stiles disappear. The window rolled down, and Lydia stared out at me, eyes wet and makeup smeared.

"I don't have comfort food but I hear my hugs are pretty top notch," I called into the car. The door unlocked, and I slid into the passenger seat, instantly pulling the girl to me.

"What happened?" I asked gently.

"I'm going crazy!" Lydia exclaimed, bringing on another wave of tears. "I keep seeing things that aren't there! I can't sleep because I keep having these dreams!"

"What dreams?" I prodded.

"Of him! Of Peter Hale! He's in my bed, or in my living room, and he's - he's saying all of these things to me, and I don't know what any of them mean!" Lydia cried. "And then Jackson is avoiding me. I don't know what I did wrong -"

"Whoa, hey, you didn't do anything wrong there," I interrupted. "Listen to me, you didn't. Jackson is... he is a lot of words that would give my grandmother a heart attack if she heard me saying them, and that's all on him. It's not you."

"Then why does he hate me so much?" Lydia whispered brokenly. "Why is he blaming me for things I have no idea about?"

"I..." I faltered, "I don't know."

"Neither do I," Lydia replied, laughing humorlessly. "I know you and him are a lot closer than people think, but, the way he is with everyone is not how he is with me. Or, was. He's never been this cruel." Wiping her eyes with the tissue, Lydia lay her head on my shoulder. "He probably thinks I'm crazy too."

"You're not," I said again, firmly. "The dreams... Peter Hale attacked you. It's only normal that he's the main star of your nightmares. That doesn't make you crazy."

"But they don't feel like dreams," Lydia's voice hitched. "They feel real. I wake up feeling as though he was really there. I punched a mirror in my sleep and didn't feel a thing. I saw that boy, and I haven't seen him since. I am going crazy, and I don't know how to stop it."

I let her cry for a few moments, struggling to find the words to say that would fix this somehow. Only, I didn't have any. I couldn't make this better.

Peter Hale was dead, but he was still making sure his presence was known.

"Hey," I whispered. "There's something going on with you, but that's okay, you hear me? Whatever it is, whatever happens, it's okay. We're going to figure this out. All of us. Forget Jackson. Forget everyone. This isn't about them. If you don't want to tell Morrell about this, then don't. Tell us, your friends. We're going to help you through this."

"Promise?" Lydia asked, sounding uncharacteristically child like.

"I promise."

* * *

We sat together for a while, until Lydia finally began to smile again. She adjusted her makeup, deciding to head back to the field, where everyone was apparently still celebrating the win. Lydia also told me that she had overheard Scott being pulled into dinner at the Argents.

I clamped down on the immediate flare of concern that flooded me. Scott was with the Argents.

"Aren't you coming?" She asked when she saw me hesitate by her car.

"I, uh... I was supposed to meet with Stiles after the game," I told her.

"Ah," Lydia nodded, smirking. "You were, were you?"

"It's not like that, Lyd -"

"Sure, of course it isn't," Lydia waved me off, smirking. "Don't worry, I'll keep your secret."

"But it's not," I began to call, though Lydia was already walking away, "a secret. But you're gone now anyway."

Shaking my head, I couldn't help but laugh at my friend's behavior. I knew if I told her of the two kisses I had shared with Stiles, she would probably bounce off the walls in excitement. Blaming the pink in my cheeks on the cold, I pulled myself together, and walked off towards the pools.

Intent on finding Stiles and Derek and telling them that Scott was possibly, maybe in trouble, I sped towards the pools and threw open the door.

"Olivia!" Both Stiles and Derek called, and my eyes roamed around the room, finally locating them in the pool.

"What? Did you think now was the perfect time for a dip?" I sardonically asked. As I drew nearer, I noticed that Stiles was actually holding Derek up, keeping his head above the water.

"What -" I was about to ask what had happened, when a sharp, icy sensation shot through my chest. Though the location had changed, the feeling was still the same one I had gotten when Jackson had touched me earlier that same day.

"Behind you!" Derek yelled gruffly, though he didn't have to, as I was already ducking to one side. I landed on my side, rolling onto my back and propping myself up on my elbows. Beside me, lay an unconscious Erica.

Stiles and Derek were both shouting, as though trying to distract the creature. I, however, was more intrigued by the way it scrambled to grab onto the railing. The creature's claws had been prepared to find purchase in my flesh, but when I had moved, it had almost gone crashing into the pool.

"It doesn't like water!" Stiles called, spluttering. "Jump in."

"Stiles, unless you're planning to hold me up too, then I'm not going to do that," I called back.

The creature drew back on its heels, preparing to jump, and I hurriedly slid backwards, out of the way. It landed clumsily on the floor in front of me, and seemed confused when it realized that I was not underneath it.

It raised its head, and from where I lay on the floor, I drew my knee back, and kicked out. The heel of my boot connected with the scaly face of the creature, and it retreated long enough for me to stand up.

Stiles and Derek were still yelling things, but neither I or the creature were listening. A quick glance around the room proved that there was nothing in my immediate vicinity that could possibly be used as a weapon.

Knowing that my hand to hand combat abilities were severely lacking, I could only think of one thing. Steer clear of the claws. So long as I wasn't paralyzed, I stood some sort of chance, no matter how slim it was.

This time, when it lunged at me, I attempted to duck out of the way again, but I wasn't fast enough. It's claws slashed the side of my sweater, but the skin of my hip underneath remained unharmed.

As I dodged another attack from the creature's other arm, it bent low and swung around. The creature's tail smacked me right in the chest, knocking me backwards.

My back collided painfully with the wall, and I felt something dig into my back, and scratch the skin. Ignoring the sting of the scratch, I just barely managed to dodge the fist that came soaring towards my face.

I found that odd. The creature could have easily slashed me with his claws, and yet, it didn't. Before it could realize that I had again avoided his attack, I pushed him sideways and ran quickly to the other side of the pools. I threw open the door of the swim coach's office, and searched the desk for a weapon.

The first thing I set my hands on was a clip board, but I shook my head at my own stupidity. Underneath the clipboard, however, lay a pair of scissors.

Grasping it, I made my way back into the pool, where I had heard splashing a few seconds earlier. Stiles was beginning to sink, unable to keep Derek up any longer.

"I called Scott!" Stiles yelled towards me. "He's on the way! Jump into the water."

"Stiles, you're already sinking." I heard Derek say.

"Where did it go?" I asked, figuring it was the most important aspect of the conversation.

"Olivia -"

"_Where_ did it go?" I asked, louder. They didn't have to answer, as the hissing noise coming from behind me told me what I needed to know.

The creature knocked me to the ground, and I bent awkwardly in order to keep hold of the scissors.

Derek and Stiles were both yelling again, and some part of me found it in myself to be annoyed.

Pinned to the floor, I desperately tried to wriggle my hands from underneath me as the creature loomed over me. Its yellow eyes searched my face, as though he was looking for something, and I understood what Stiles meant when he said it felt as though the creature knew us.

With its head lolling from side to side as he stared at me, I took it as my opportunity to shift, freeing my hand. Grasping the scissors tightly, I held eye contact with the creature, hoping to keep its attention away from the scissors.

It didn't work. The creature caught sight of the scissors from the corner of his eye, and the hissing noise returned. It lashed out, and just as the claws reached my face, the weight of it was thrown off of me.

The whole fight had barely lasted five minutes, and yet, I felt as though I had been there forever. As Scott brawled with the creature, I scrambled to my feet. I threw the scissors to the side, and made my way over to the edge of the pool.

"Give me him," I instructed as Stiles struggled over towards me. With one push, Stiles managed to raise Derek enough for me to hook my arms under his own. I hauled Derek up onto the tile flooring, and then reached out to help Stiles.

"You should have gotten into the pool," Stiles grumbled.

"Say that when your arms regain feeling," I grumbled back. Stiles simply glowered at me, and I simply ignored him.

A loud crash made all three of us jump in fright, and we watched as Scott fell to the floor, having been thrown into a mirror. Glass shattered and clattered to the floor around him, and Scott was quick to grab a large shard.

He lashed out, swiping at the creature. It recoiled, and moved to attack again, only to stop. Scott was holding the shard of glass out, and the creature had caught sight of its own reflection.

It hissed a new, horrifying sound, tilting its head to the side as though it was trying to figure out what exactly it was seeing. Then it moved.

Scott poised himself to attack, but the creature simply ran towards the wall. Bounding off of it, it leaped onto the balcony's railings and leaped towards the roof, where it crashed through one of the skylights and disappeared.

"Okay," I said slowly. "I sometimes want to do the same when I see my own reflection but that was weird."

"What happened?" Scott asked, his face morphing back to human.

"It attacked us," Stiles breathed. "Knocked out Erica and paralyzed Derek. We were safe in the water, and Olivia would have been too -"

"It attacked, you got here, it ran away, end of story," I cut Stiles off. "And thank God you got here when you did! I thought I was going to have to fight that thing with a pool noodle. And that would have just been embarrassing for everyone." Taking a deep breath, I exhaled. "The bestiary wasn't in his office."

"I know. We searched Allison's house, but it wasn't there either. That's when Allison remembered."

"Remembered what?" Derek asked, slowly standing up. He faltered, and both Stiles and I rushed to keep him upright.

"Allison said Gerard's keys had a USB stick attached to the key ring," Scott recalled. "Where are the keys?"

"Back in his office," Stiles answered.

"I'll get them," Scott nodded. "Take Derek outside, wake up Erica. Set up my laptop too. I'll meet you at my car."

* * *

Leaving Stiles to half carry Derek outside, I made quick work of rousing Erica. Other than being knocked unconscious, the girl had gotten away injury-free.

The four of us were quiet as we found our way to Scott's car. It had been left unlocked, and Stiles quickly grabbed the laptop, setting it up.

As Derek began to regain movement, Erica suggested they do a quick lap of the school, to check for the creature, and to allow Derek to stretch his legs.

"Why didn't -"

"I didn't get into the pool because I'm not a strong swimmer, and I wasn't about to put the strain of helping me on you when you were already struggling with Derek," I said in one breath.

"It could have killed you."

"Yes, and I am very lucky that Scott arrived when he did," I agreed. "But, I do understand what you meant now. When it had me pinned, it was just... staring. Like it was trying to figure out where it had seen me before, and I got the same feeling."

"Like you were looking at someone in a Halloween mask!" Stiles exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Turning back to the computer, he typed in Scott's password.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

Reaching up, I rubbed my hand across his back. "I'm okay. A few bruises probably, but I'm okay. Thank you, for saving Derek."

"No, I -"

"Yes, you_ did_," I argued. "If you hadn't kept him up, he would have drowned. You saved his life, and I think he knows it too. You might want to keep that, you could cash in on it someday."

"I got it!" Scott announced, appearing beside us.

He made quick work of inserting the USB stick. As soon as the laptop scanned it, we opened up the folder, and unzipped the file. A PDF file opened up, and thousands upon thousands of words appeared. Just, not _English_ words.

"Is that even a language?" Stiles asked, tilting his head as though that would make the words make sense.

"Yes, of course," I nodded. "Don't ask me which one though."

"How are we supposed to figure out what this thing is?" Scott groaned in frustration.

"It's called a kanima," Derek's voice informed. His voice was clearer than it had been, his body stronger and less shaky.

A kanima. I had to admit, I had never heard of it before, and the feeling did not sit well with me.

"You knew the whole time," Stiles accused.

"No," Derek rolled his eyes. "Only when it was confused by its own reflection."

"It doesn't know what it is," Scott said, confirming what we all thought.

"Or who," Derek corrected.

"What else do you know?" Stiles interrogated.

"Just stories, rumors." Derek replied.

"But it's like us?" Scott asked.

"A shape–shifter, yes, but it's – it's not right. It's like a –"

"An abomination," Stiles filled in.

Silent, I remained quiet as the thoughts raced in my head. I was glad our creature had a name, finally. A kanima. The relief, however, of finally having a name only resulted in more questions.

_What was a kanima?_

_Where did it come from?_

_What kind of powers did it have, if any?_

_What were we dealing with?_

"Derek?" Scott called, as Derek began to move away. "We need to work together on this. Maybe even tell the Argents."

Derek rounded back instantly, disbelief clear in his light eyes.

"You _trust_ them?!"

"_Nobody_ trusts _anyone_!" Scott's yell caught us all off guard, and I almost winced at the volume of the usually docile boy's voice. "That's the problem. While we're here, arguing about who's on what side, there's something scarier, stronger and faster than any of us, and it's _killing_ people and we still don't even know anything about it!"

"I know one thing," Derek shook his head, his werewolf features taking over his human ones, "When I find it, I'm gonna kill it!"

Having remained silent the whole time, I wasn't about to pass up the chance to talk to Derek. I knew, if he disappeared, then it would be a question as to when we'd see him again, and I wasn't about to let him leave with the ball in his court.

In fact, I didn't even want the ball in _our_ court. I just wanted there to be no court at all.

"Oh yeah? Really?" I asked, skipping towards him. I had to keep up my skipping pace as he continued to walk. Behind us, Stiles, Scott and Erica followed.

"You found it tonight, or well _it_ found you, and you and Stiles had a titanic moment. What are you going to do Derek?" I questioned, and then perked up, letting out a laugh. "Oh! Oh! I know! You gonna try and turn him too? That is kind of your style now."

Instead of rising to the bait, Derek simply rolled his eyes and continued to walk. My arm shot out, and pressed against his chest, forcing him to stop.

A growl echoed from deep in his chest, and I was so tempted to reach up and swat his nose.

"Yeah, yeah, growl all you want, you glorified puppy," I snapped, breathing hard out of anger and exasperation. "Scott's right on this one, you know. So, maybe Scott and Stiles don't trust you. Hell, maybe you don't trust them! But you know who none of us trust? The Argents! Or the kanima! Look at that! Not one common enemy, but _two_!"

"And? What do you want us to do, Olivia? Hold hands and sing a song?"

"Derek," I scoffed, "It's like you don't know me at all. Maybe, just maybe, I want us to work together because I want us to win! Maybe, just _maybe_, I know that I'm not to only one who remembers that the only way we defeated Peter Hale was by fighting him together. It didn't exactly work out when there were two teams, now did it?"

"She's right, Derek," Scott agreed.

"Damn right I am right," I jabbed my finger into Derek's chest. "Now you and I, we have done this before. We've had this conversation before. We're not your enemy, Derek, and as much as you try, you'll _never_ be ours. It's not going to work that way."

I lowered my hand, allowing my eyes to do the pleading. "Derek, _please,_" I whispered. "If we're two separate groups running into this, people are going to die. If we're together..." I trailed off, "... maybe they'll only get maimed a little bit."

Behind us, I saw Stiles and Scott share a pained look.

"And that's better?" Erica scoffed.

"It's not dead!" I screeched. "And dead is what we're all going to be if we don't stop this stupid feuding thing and actually pull together. You have three _newbies_, Derek. You can train them all you want, but if they want to stand a chance against this thing, then it's going to take more time than we have. Us, we've been in the game longer. We might not have the abilities you have, but we have something! And that something might just be the thing _your_ something needs."

The night was silent, and I watched the cogs turning in Derek's head. The alpha werewolf heaved a heavy sigh before he turned to Scott.

"When we find the kanima," He began, "I get to kill it."

With a smile, Scott relaxed. It was settled then, in the high school's parking lot. When it came to the kanima, we were all on the same team. The team that was going to win.

Scott nodded, "I'll flip you for it."

* * *

Oh, Derek. I've missed you.

And dear, loyal readers! How has everyone been? Has anyone seen the trailer for 5B? Does anyone else want to freak out with me? To be honest, if no one else freaks out with me, I'll just do it anyway, and it'll be embarrassing so you might as well join me.

To anyone I wasn't able to reply to, mainly guests, thank you so much for your reviews! I replied to every one I could, and I can't wait to hear from you all again.

Until next time,

Megan


	10. Chapter 10

**Hazy**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

"Olivia!"

At the sound of my mother's voice calling from downstairs, I groaned, removing the pillow that I had placed over my face more than a half hour before.

"I'm up, mom!" I called back, rolling onto my side. "I bet you slept great," I grumbled, coming face to face with Bear, who had curled up on the pillow beside my head.

He peeked at me through one eye before sighing, and tucking his head down onto his paws again. Smiling softly, I scratched his head affectionately, and sat up, stretching.

I had woken up too early that morning, troubled by yet another dream of the Kanima. It had a name now, making it much less mysterious than it had been. Not any less scary, however. Or dangerous.

In my dream, I had been struck by that same familiar feeling. I couldn't shake the notion that there was something I was missing, something I should have known. There were dots that were supposed to connect, but for some reason, they refused to.

"Who do you think it is?" I asked Bear, who only huffed in response.

I had spent some time the night before researching, and had compiled only a small, questionable amount of information, leading me to contact Conrad. Then I had given up, and gone to bed.

The desire to skip school and hide in bed all day was strong, but I pushed it aside and hauled myself out of bed.

As I dressed, I thought of how I was a lot less stressed than I had been the morning before. Knowing that Derek was on our team now was doing a lot to calm my worries. Of course, I wasn't expecting to be making matching t-shirts for us all, but any help was help.  
There was a small part of me that wondered just how strong our allegiance was, and when it would break, but I squashed those thoughts quickly.

I felt slightly guilty knowing that it was Allison's family we were banding together against, but Allison and I had talked in length over the past few days, and the girl was well aware of the danger her family posed. More than we were, I knew.

I had spent a good hour talking to her about it last night, after Lydia had bid us goodnight and logged off our video chat. Allison and I were interrupted when my father poked his head into my room, reminding me of the late hour. I had said goodnight to the brunette, and logged off.

My mother called my name again, reminding me that I needed to get a move on. Bending to kiss Bear on the head, I gave him one last pet before I left.

* * *

Strolling through the school, I bobbed my head to the music coming through my earphones, not too bothered to rush around like some of the other students around me.

I turned the corner, waving at some students who I knew casually, and pulling to an abrupt stop when I spotted Jackson standing at his locker. He seemed to be on alert, like he was waiting for someone to jump out at him. The bell above us rang, and I swore, if he could have stuffed himself in his own locker, he would have. Knowing I had a good few minutes before class began, I decided to deal with the first problem of the day.

Approaching him slowly, I did not even bother trying to catch him off guard. Jackson was seriously spooked, and I was nice. _Sometimes_.

"Jacks?" I called softly, as though I was approaching a wounded animal. The boy's light eyes darted towards me, and almost instantly, his face turned from alarmed to smug. Despite the usual cocky mask being in place, I could see how his shoulders had tensed.

"What?" He asked, copying my tone.

Ignoring his attempt to be rude, I narrowed my eyes at him, "Are you okay?"

At my question, Jackson tensed again, only to force himself to relax when he realized I had been examining him, watching for his reaction.

"Fine."

I arched an eyebrow.

"I said I was fine," Jackson said again, clenching his jaw.

I blinked.

Rolling his eyes, the boy huffed and grabbed my arm. I allowed Jackson to drag me down the hallway, ignoring the curious looks sent our way. He turned down one of the smaller hallways and wrenched open the door of an empty classroom, and nudging me inside.

"What I'm about to tell you, I haven't told anyone," Jackson began, his voice a hurried whisper, "and I'm only telling you because you won't leave me alone otherwise -"

"Well, I can be persistent," I interrupted with a lazy smile.

"I'd call it irritating," Jackson snorted. "Look, none of this leaves this room, okay? I don't want you running off and telling McCall or Stilinski - or Allison!" Jackson added as an after thought.

Searching his eyes, the lazy smile quickly slipped from my face. Straightening up, I tilted my head to one side.

"Jackson," I started slowly, "what's going on?"

"I asked Derek to bite me."

In moments of shock, it's almost like every other sound around you is blocked out by the noise of your own blood rushing around in your head. It took a few moments for the steady sound of the clock ticking on the wall to come back to me, for the sound of the students bustling in the halls outside to return.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked dumbly. As Jackson opened his mouth to repeat what he had just said, I picked a book up off of the teacher's desk and began smacking his arm with it.

"You. Asked. Derek. To. Do. What?!" I exclaimed, punctuating my every word with a hit of the book.

"Ow, hey! Olivia, stop - stop!" Jackson dodged another blow, wrestling the book from my hands.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't Derek tell me? When - when did he - did he actually do it? Are you a - no, you're not. _What?!"_

Jackson waited impatiently for me to finish my screeching, and then asked, with pursed lips, "Are you done?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Start talking."

And he did. Jackson told me all about how, the night Peter had died, he had gone back to Derek, and asked him for the bite. Derek had complied, and Jackson had woken up in a stream, his shirt torn and bloodied, with a large bite mark on his chest.  
But nothing had happened. Short of him bleeding black blood for a while after, nothing had changed in Jackson's life. The bite hadn't worked. Jackson was not a werewolf.

"It didn't work," Jackson said again, and I picked up on some residual disappointment in his voice. I glared at him.

"And thank God for that!" I hissed. "Did me yelling at you in the car last year just go in one ear and out the other? You know how much Scott struggled! You know how dangerous, how hard, it is to be a werewolf!"

"It didn't seem so hard for Isaac. Or Erica, or Boyd," Jackson hissed back. "They seem to be adapting just fine."

My eyes flashed from the floor, back up to him, and promptly narrowed. "Did they do anything to you?"

"Only kidnap and poison me."

Again, the blood rushing in my head roared. Shaking my head, I rubbed at my temples. "Why?"

"I didn't stop to ask that many questions. I was paralyzed, then I wasn't, and Derek told me I could leave," Jackson rolled his eyes. "Oh, and Isaac... he made me recant what I told the Sheriff about seeing him arguing with his dad that night. He wanted me -"

"- to clear him as a suspect," I finished. "Meaning he's allowed back in school." The warning bell rang and I jumped, darting for the door. "I have to warn the others."

"Olivia!" Jackson called, stopping me. "Please," he pleaded. "Don't tell them about me."

I hesitated at the door, before giving in and nodding slowly. With one last scrutinizing look at the boy, I opened the door and jogged to class, hoping I made it there before the teacher.

Or Isaac.

* * *

The first period of the day was nothing short of tense. I could almost feel the tension coming in waves from Scott, who never once took his eyes off of Isaac, who sat in front of me.

As I bent my head, focusing on my work, I slid my eyes towards Stiles. He turned his head away from Scott, and sent a rueful smile my way. I returned it easily.

I was about halfway through taking my notes when I suddenly looked up again. In front of me, Isaac barely moved, and I trained my eyes on the leather of his jacket. After a moment, when Isaac still didn't move a muscle, I shook my head and chewed thoughtfully on the inside of my bottom lip.

Why today?

Why did Isaac choose today to return to school? Was it nothing, or was it something?

I tapped the end of my pen against my chin, deep in thought. Maybe it was because we had joined forces with Derek. No, I shook my head. If it was, Isaac would have said so. He definitely wouldn't keep smirking over at Scott, adding fuel to Scott's blazing fire.

I blew out my cheeks in frustration, coming to zero conclusions. Returning my attention to my work, I blocked out everything else and for once, took comfort in something as mundane as school work.

I barely registered the shrill ringing of the bell, and only snapped out of my concentration when I caught sight of Isaac moving. Looking around, I noticed everyone else was packing up too, and hurried to do the same.

Isaac strolled out of the classroom first, leaving a few whispering girls in his wake. I slipped my bag over my shoulder, clutching my books in my arms as I headed over to Scott and Stiles.

"He made Jackson clear him as a suspect this morning," I said in lieu of a greeting. "Jackson told me."

"Why would he want to return to school?" Stiles asked, scoffing.

"Beats me," I replied casually, slipping in between the boys. I glanced at Scott. "New topic," I decided. "Kanima."

"All right," Stiles said, clapping his hands together. "I only found one thing online called a kanima. It's a werejaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

"That thing was not a jaguar," Scott spoke for the first time, his tone sounding slightly amused.

"Yeah, and none of us are murderers and yet, it went after us," Stiles pointed out.

"Yeah, but you did see it kill somebody, which is probably why it tried to kill you," Scott reasoned. "And it's still trying to kill you, and it probably won't stop until you're dead."

"Cheery," I remarked. "As for Scott and I, we showed up and interrupted it. It probably just attacked us to get us out of the way."

"So, we're all targets," Stiles grimaced. "Yay! That makes me feel so much better."

"I barely found mention of a kanima online, so you're ahead of me," I added. "Though I called Conrad, and he said he's going to do a double check in his books and get back to us. I did dream of it though!"

Suddenly, I was walking alone. I paused in the hallway, and slowly turned on my heel. Scott and Stiles had stopped walking and were staring at me.

"And that's not the first thing you tell us, why?" Stiles asked.

"No one died," I rolled my eyes. "It was just... there. It was like I was trying to figure out what it was, or it was trying to tell me - I'm not sure, it was very fuzzy. The dream, not the kanima. That was still a homicidal lizard thing."

"It was trying to tell you?" Scott questioned, ignoring my rambling.

"I... think so," I frowned, remembering back. "At least, that was the impression I got. It just stared at me, and I at it. It's eyes... it looked trapped. Like it needed help, or something."

"You can't seriously feel bad for this thing!" Stiles exclaimed, picking up on what I was trying to hide.

I glared at him, folding my arms. "Stiles, it's not like I want to wrap it in a blanket and bring it some soup," I sassed as Stiles glanced up to the ceiling and then down at the floor. "I'm just saying, it looked like less of a monster and more of a person in my dream. A scared person."

"Have you talked to Deaton yet?" Scott wondered. "About your dreams and stuff?"

"No, why?"

"He might know where it's coming from," Scott suggested. "He's already mentioned them to you, he knows you're having them."

"I'll talk to him when I bring Bear in to get his cast removed," I promised. "See what he says."

"And if he says you're a psychic?" Stiles asked, his frustration melting away into a cheeky grin.

Shooting him another glare, I turned around and began walking down the hallway away from them.

"I was kidding!" Stiles laughed from behind me, jogging to catch up with me. Scott appeared behind us, chuckling.

"No, you weren't," I accused with a laugh of my own, as he wrapped his arms around me in apology. I wriggled myself free, laughing.

"Okay, so maybe I was half-serious," Stiles agreed, taking his seat in front of me. He turned so that he was facing me, and reached out, taking one of my hands in his.

"But if you are," Stiles said, sounding sincere, "and you don't give me the lottery numbers every week then I will have to call this relationship into question."

Giggling, I shoved him, "Why would I do that when I can just keep them for myself?"

Stiles gasped dramatically, putting his hand over his heart. "Sharing is caring," he tried.

"Yes, and I'll be sharing it with me, myself and I."

"What about me?" Scott asked, and I eyed him.

"Really?" Stiles exclaimed. "You'd consider sharing with him but not me?"

"Hm," I leaned my chin on my clasped hands. "Scott is nice to me."

"Yes, I'm rich!" Scott laughed, pumping his fist into the air.

"I am extremely nice to you," Stiles smirked. "To prove it, I'm taking you out this Saturday, and I'm going to show how nice I can be to a girl." Satisfied, he turned in his seat, only to quickly turn back. "Ok, that sounded slightly suggestive, I heard it - though I would be down for that stuff too -"

"Stiles!" Scott exclaimed. The werewolf doubled over, clutching his stomach as his loud laugh filled the room and caused everyone to look at us.

Watching the redness slowly take over Stiles's face, I couldn't help but start laughing myself, though I tried to hide it a bit more than Scott did, hiding it behind my hand.

Scott, on the other hand, was now wiping tears from his eyes. "I can't believe you just said that to a girl."

"Believe it," Stiles chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "I have once again embarrassed myself."

"Aw, it's endearing," I assured, reaching over and rubbing his back. "Though that stuff is going to take a few dates, and you're probably going to have to sell my dad a cow or something. Isn't that how dating works?"

"Last time I checked," Stiles nodded seriously, and then flashed me a smile, glad I wasn't affronted.

"Aw, you two are so cute," Scott cooed. "Invite me to the wedding."

Stiles flipped his best friend off, causing all three of us to laugh. Five minutes after we settled down, Coach Finstock arrived, with Jackson slipping into class behind him.

"Hey, testicle left and right," Jackson whispered, calling Scott and Stiles.

"Because saying their names is so cliche," I rolled my eyes, flipping open my notebook.

"What the hell is a kanima?" Jackson demanded to know, causing us to freeze.

Scott and Stiles shared a look, before glancing at me, silently asking if I had told Jackson when I had talked to him that morning. I shook my head, no, and turned to Jackson myself.

"Why didn't you ask me that question this morning?"

"Because I decided not to," Jackson answered shortly. "Now what the hell is it?"

"All right, listen up," Coach called, breaking up our conversation. "A quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups -"

"Unfair," I muttered quietly, flipping through the pages of my notebook again.

" - because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult I'm not even too sure I could pass it," Coach continued, and then glared at a few students who snorted. "Okay, I need a volunteer at the board to answer the first question. Who's got it, huh?"

Sliding down in my seat and staring at everything bar Coach, I begged some unknown higher power to make it so Coach chose anyone but me.

"Come on, let's go, buddy," Coach suddenly called, and I breathed out a sigh of relief as the boy beside me stood up, and begrudgingly made his way to the front of the class.

"Paralyzed from the neck down," Jackson whispered behind us, leaning forward. "Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Stiles was the first to turn around, "I'm familiar with the sensation."

"That's what you were talking about this morning," I rotated in my chair. "Derek had them take you to... what?" I paused, frowning.  
Poisoned. Paralyzed. Let go. "He was testing you," I concluded. "He wanted to see if you were immune to the toxin. He wanted to see if you were the kanima."

Scott turned around then, joining the conversation finally. "Wait, why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

Jackson scoffed, "How should I know? Like I said, I didn't stop to ask questions. I did hear parts of their conversation though. They know it's not me, but there is one person who has proven immune to certain things before."

"Lydia," I breathed, glancing over at the girl. My friend was squinting at the board, shaking her head. Clearly, someone had done something wrong.

"All I heard was her name and something about chemistry," Jackson whispered, also glancing over at the strawberry blonde.

"Jackson!" Coach's voice yelled, making me jump. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Um," Jackson cleared his throat, adopting a lazy grin. "Just an undying admiration for my coach?"

"That's really kind of you," Coach smiled, ignoring the laughs. The smile dropped. "Now shut up! Shut it! Anybody else?"

"Undying admiration?" I quoted with a wry grin. Jackson shrugged in reply.

"How do we know it's not her?" Scott asked, causing us all to freeze.

"Scott, you're not - you can't be serious," I stuttered.

"No, Scott, I looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil. And Lydia's eyes, I only see 50% evil in them. All right, maybe 60. You know, but no more than 40 on a good day."

"Stiles, that's not a very good argument," Scott said.

"Here's a good argument then," I said, sitting up. "On the way to the pool, I found Lydia crying in her car. I stayed with her for a while, and by the time I left her, the kanima already had Stiles and Derek trapped. Lydia's a lot of things, but she can't be two people at once." I shrugged, "Besides, Stiles has a point. The evil eyes don't match up."

"If we're going by evil, maybe it's Olivia," Jackson drawled.

Shooting the boy a mischievous smirk, "Oh Jacks, if I was the kanima, you'd have been my first victim."

"I'm honored," Jackson winked, and blew me a kiss. Grimacing, I shuddered dramatically.

"Lydia! Your turn," Coach called, holding up a piece of chalk for her. Lydia stood, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she approached the board.

"Allison and I have kept a close eye on her too," I added for good measure. "Lyd's doing a lot better than she was at the beg-"

My words died on my lips, my eyes narrowing as I watched the frantic scrawl Lydia was writing on the board. I glanced around, seeing that a few students were giggling, and pointing.

"What is she doing?" Jackson asked, sounding bored.

"I have no idea," I mumbled back.

The strawberry blonde suddenly stopped writing, and slowly turned around to face the class. She was breathing hard, tears trailing down her face. Truthfully, she looked terrified. Her eyes darted around, looking for something.

"Okay then," Coach piped up, breaking the silence, "anybody else want to try answering? This time in English?"

Laughs erupted from the class, causing more tears to fall as Lydia snapped out of wherever she had gone to in her head. Standing up, I made my way to the front of the class. When I reached her, Lydia gripped my wrist with bruising strength.

"It's okay," I soothed. "I'm gonna get you out of here, c'mon."

I glanced towards Coach, ready to argue with him if necessary, and to my surprise, the man nodded softly, a strange look in his eyes. Caring. The look was one of care. I nodded my head back, and escorted Lydia from the classroom.

As soon as we entered the bathroom, Lydia burst into tears. "I'm so embarrassed!" She cried.

"Lyd," I began gently. "What happened back there?"

"I-I don't know!" She hiccuped. "One minute I was walking to the board and the next -" Lydia's back straightened, her hands falling from her face. "He was there," She whispered. "That boy. Everyone was laughing, but he - he was sitting in the front seat. He was - he was smiling."

Furrowing my eyebrows, I thought of the people sitting in the front row. "Bobby Miller?" I asked.

"No!" Lydia huffed, wiping her eyes. "Him! The boy from Ms. Morrell's office! He's in my head!"

Fighting my growing concern, I resisted the urge to find Ms. Morrell, a trained professional, and swallowed. "Lyd, what else did you see?"

Lydia took a few moments to answer, sniffling and wiping her eyes.

"Peter."

It came out so quietly that, at first, I could have sworn I misheard her. But I didn't.

"Peter?" I echoed, just as quietly. "Peter Hale?"

Lydia nodded.

"What did he - " I cleared my throat, pushing down the rising dread. "What did he do?"

"He... he cornered me. Everyone was gone. I was - I was alone with him," Lydia frowned. "He blew something at me. A powder. I think. Then he was gone, and everyone was laughing."

"Was that the first time you saw him?" I asked.

Lydia shook her head, pressing her hand to her mouth as more tears rose in her eyes. "The skating rink," She confessed shakily. "When I - he was under the ice. He was trying to get out, he - he was screaming."

"Did he tell you what to write on the board?" I asked next, and Lydia shook her head as my phone beeped.

"No. No, I did that. I don't know why," Lydia let out a humorless laugh, "I don't even know what I wrote."

As Lydia stepped up to the sink, intent on washing away the smeared makeup, I glanced at my phone.

On the screen, I saw two photos of the board. One was the original image, whilst the second was the image reversed. My mouth fell open as I blinked at the screen.

"Lydia," I stepped up to her, handing her my phone. "That's what you wrote. You wrote '_someone help me_'."

Lydia stared unblinking at the photo, and finally rose her gaze to mine. "What's happening to me?"

* * *

After being informed by Coach about what had happened, Ms. Morrell eventually came looking for Lydia, and the two disappeared into her office. I immediately met up with the boys and Allison, and relayed what Lydia had told me.

"But that's normal right?" Scott asked, crossing his arms, "Having nightmares?"

"Of course it is," I nodded slowly. "As is hallucinating, but ... there's something different about her. She's not Lydia."

"Well how could she be?" Allison reasoned. "After everything she went through, she's bound to be different. She just needs help."

"But is it that simple?" I countered, furrowing my eyebrows. "She's been getting help, and yeah, it takes time, and if this was a normal town, I wouldn't be so concerned. It isn't a normal town though, is it? And it wasn't a normal attack."

Thinking back on everything Lydia had told me, about seeing Peter Hale, I could feel the thick rope of anxiety tightening in my chest. I felt it squeezing and let out a rush of breath, hoping to feel it loosen. Instead, I just felt it drop deep into my stomach, setting free a group of uncomfortable butterflies.

I had done my best over the last few weeks to think about Peter Hale as little as possible. Rationally, I told myself that I didn't have to. He was dead, and gone, and no longer on our list of priorities.

The irrational side of me argued that maybe it wasn't as easy as that. Maybe the area was more grey than black or white.

Realizing that I had gotten lost in my thoughts, I just barely caught a glimpse of my friends sharing looks over my head. Someone moved, and I wasn't sure who it was until I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders.  
In response, I jumped, causing Stiles to lower his arm to my back.

"It's okay, it's me," Stiles reassured. I gave him a small smile, and took a subtle, deep breath. "Peter is dead," Stiles said next to me. "We watched him die -"

"Yes, I remember," I snapped, and then winced. "Sorry," I apologized sheepishly.

"Lydia's going to be okay," Stiles said, after a moment, allowing me to squash the irritation that had flared up.

"Is she?" I asked. "Peter may be dead but now Derek thinks she's the kanima."

"She isn't -"

"You try telling Derek that," I said, turning to face him better. The movement caused his hand to slip from my back. "When he gets an idea, he's like a dog with a bone - pun intended. We're supposed to have an alliance with him now and yet he goes behind our back and tests Jackson?" I took a breath and continued, "They kidnapped Jackson. They paralyzed him. What if they do the same thing to Lydia? Jackson can cope with what happened, Lydia couldn't. Not right now. It'll undo any progress she's made. So no, she's not okay. She's not going to be okay..." I trailed off and ran a hand through my hair. "Maybe we should tell her."

"Whoa, what?" Allison nearly choked on her water. "Tell her? About werewolves and kanimas?"

"Olivia," Stiles sighed.

"Maybe she's right," Scott piped up, and all of our heads snapped towards him. "Jackson can cope because he knows about all of this. We can cope because we're in on it. We have answers to the questions we ask. Lydia doesn't."

"Exactly," I breathed, relieved that someone else knew where I was coming from. "I almost lost my mind last year trying to figure out what was happening around me. Once I knew, I was better. Allison, it was the same for you. As scary as this is, it's much scarier being on the outside."

"But is it safer?" Stiles asked.

"Obviously not!" I exclaimed. "Something's going to happen in chemistry class, and she is completely clueless."

"Alright, alright," Allison stepped in, becoming the voice of reason. "Everyone has points here. The thing is, we can't do anything about it today. Today, we protect her. You said something about chemistry class. We're all in that together. We stay with Lydia, we don't leave her alone. We can protect her."

* * *

With our orders given, the four of us stood and made our way back into the school. As we walked into class, I noticed Erica and Isaac standing at the back of the class, clearly looking for something. Or someone.

"She's there," Scott muttered, and before Isaac or Erica could move, we were beside Lydia. Scott took his seat beside her, with Stiles pulling up a stool on her other side.

Allison sat at the other desk, on Scott's side, whilst I took up the aisle seat next to Stiles. As Isaac and Erica reluctantly took seats behind them, still flashing us grins, I rolled my eyes and looked away. Until I felt someone gently tap my arm.

"Got a pen?" Stiles asked, smiling sheepishly.

Against my own wishes, I couldn't help but chuckle softly. Reaching into my bag, the chuckle turned into a laugh as I located a rarely used pink pen, that had a fluffy detail on the end of it.

"Brings out your eyes," I teased, handing it to him.

Stiles gasped dramatically, "Does it really?!"

At my giggle, Stiles reached over and brushed the fluffy end against my nose. Automatically, I scrunched up my face at the ticklish sensation and had to rub my nose.

Sending him a mock glare, Stiles winked at me. Then, he gave me a small smile.

"We'll protect her," he mouthed, and I sighed, returning his smile and giving him a nod.

At the top of the class, Harris clapped his hands together twice, signaling the start of class. "Einstein once said, "_Two things are infinite: The universe and human stupidity; And I'm not sure about the universe_." I myself have encountered infinite stupidity," he said, pausing noticeably beside Stiles. I opened my mouth, and instantly shut it when Stiles shook his head at me, telling me to leave it be.

"So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments," Harris continued, unaware that Stiles had saved him from a veritable tongue-lashing from me. "Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one -" I gripped my pen so hard it left indentations on my palm. "- Erica, you take the first station. You'll start with..."

When Mr. Harris trailed off, I dared to look away from the marks on my skin. All around us, every male - bar Stiles and Scott and some females - had raised their hand, clearly wanting to be chosen to pair up with the newly popular blonde.

"I didn't ask for volunteers," Mr. Harris scoffed. "Put your hormonal little hands down. Start with Mr. McCall. All right, next two..."

I was so busy watching as Scott moved to Erica's desk that I almost missed the rest of the names. However, I tuned back in the moment I heard Stiles was to be paired with Isaac. I suddenly felt the urge to volunteer myself, but Mr. Harris would never pair me with Stiles. If I could intercept Isaac, however...

But it was too late. Stiles had moved to Isaac's table already, flashing me a look that clearly said he was hating it already.

"Come on, we're together," Lydia said, ushering me over.

Allison had moved to her other side. Happy with our little trio, I couldn't help but shoot glances towards Stiles every chance I got. Lydia was happy to carry our experiment, only requiring our help for bits and pieces, freeing up Allison and I to watch out for our boys.

"How are you not jealous?" Lydia asked Allison, drawing my attention back.

I located Scott quickly, watching as Erica leaned in and placed her hand on his thigh. My mouth dropped open.  
At least there was no fear of Isaac doing that to Stiles.

"I don't get jealous," Allison said, shaking her head. By her tone, I could tell she was uncomfortable.

"Never? You never get jealous?" Lydia implored dubiously.

"Why would I?"

"Because of that thing happening over there," Lydia scoffed. "That requires some jealousy."

"I like to believe I'm above jealousy as much as the next person, but even I agree, that is something to throw a fit over," I piped in.

"Scott can handle it."

"That's what I'd be worried about," Lydia hummed, pursing her lips.

However, proving Allison right, Scott very clearly turned Erica down. Rebuffed, the blonde seethed in her seat, refusing to co-operate with the rest of the experiment. I rolled my eyes.

"Switch," Harris called.

"Listen to me, okay?" Allison began as we gathered our stuff. "Don't talk to Erica or Isaac."

"Why?" Lydia frowned.

"Just don't," Allison pleaded.

"But why?" Lydia asked again.

I pursed my lips. "Because," I began, "we don't talk to girls that mack on our best friend's boyfriend. And Isaac's... strange."

"Oh, duh!" Lydia scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "No worries, I wasn't planning on talking to them anyway."

Luckily for us, Scott was the one to get paired with the strawberry blonde next. Allison went to Stiles, and I blew out a breath of relief, knowing that Erica wasn't about to sink her claws into him too.

That relief quickly disappeared when I realized my partner was to be -

"Isaac," I deadpanned.

"Olivia," He smirked.

Luckily for me, Isaac didn't seem to be as irritating as Erica. Though we got down to business quickly, it also meant we were finished quickly, and forced to sit in a noticeable silence until Mr. Harris called out for us to switch again.

"Don't stare at me for too long," Isaac teased, voice deep and low as though we were sharing a secret. "Stiles might get jealous."

"You used to be so nice," I commented, ignoring his comment.

"I used to be weak," Isaac snapped, bitterly.

"No," I disagreed. "Your father was weak. You used to be _human_."

"Being human is overrated."

"Is that what Derek told you?" I asked. "When he turned you? Did he promise you the world and more? Dress it up all pretty? You can have the power, the strength, the glory? Everything you always wanted but couldn't get? Well guess what - you still don't have it."

"Is that how you figure?"

"Yes, it is, and here's why; you spent your whole life at your father's mercy. Derek came along, your father died, you joined Derek's pack - and you follow _his_ orders. He sent you, and Erica here to do his dirty work. Where is he?"

"Oh, he'll be here," Isaac gritted out, and then paused. I sat up straighter, a slow smile forming on my face.

"But we weren't supposed to know that," I smiled, realizing. "Is that where Boyd is too? He and Derek are waiting out, on the sidelines, waiting for their moment to grab Lydia? He's gonna try take her here, at school." I sat back in my seat. "Hm, risky, but just as showy as Derek likes. You see, thing about Derek is, he likes a bit of attention. Likes to be dramatic. I bet he was just as dramatic when he sold you the being-a-werewolf-is-limitless package."

"And switch," Mr. Harris called again as I huffed out a laugh.

"Well, thank you Isaac, you've been a big help,"

Unfortunately, my win came with consequences. Erica, paired up with Allison, shot me a victorious smile that I sarcastically shot back, only to then understand why she had smiled.

Isaac was seated next to Lydia, and was very clearly glaring at me.

Mustering my fleeting confidence, I shot him a smile and took a seat next to one of my classmates. I was ashamed to admit that I let her do all the work, which clearly irritated her. In my defense, I was too busy focusing on more important things than making crystals.

"Time!" Harris called. "If you've catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal. Now for the part of that last experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy You can eat it."

Glancing at the crystal my classmate had made, I grimaced. There was no way I was putting any of that near my mouth. As I opened my mouth to tell her - I thought her name was Ashley, maybe - there came a shout behind me.

"Lydia!"

Instantly, I was up. Looking around, I noticed that Allison and Stiles had both stood too, looking from Scott - who had shouted - to Lydia, who looked just as confused as everyone else.

"What?" Lydia asked, holding her crystal to her mouth. I peered at it, and noticed what had alarmed Scott. The crystal was dripping. A drop fell, and landed with a light splatter against the desk.

It was enough to make Lydia set down the crystal.

"Nothing," Scott breathed. "Nothing," he repeated.

The bell rang then, and I jumped up, hurrying to Lydia's desk.

"You're not seriously going to eat that, are you?" I grimaced. "It looks nasty."

"I don't think it does," Isaac shot back, pushing it towards Lydia.

"Then maybe you should eat it," I sassed, gripping Lydia's arm and pulling her up.

Scott, Allison and Stiles quickly followed. Either Lydia didn't care, or she was ignoring our skittish behavior. With a flip of her hair, she announced that she was going to be studying in the library for the next class. We all followed.

Though none of us really had much to study, we kept ourselves busy, looking for any opportunity to discuss what our plan was going to be.

Every time we tried to, another student, or the librarian, would interrupt. Our obvious plan was to stick close to Lydia. I informed Scott quietly of what I had gathered from Isaac as we both searched through the same book for an answer. The boy had nodded, and scribbled what I had said on a note, sliding it to Stiles, where Allison leaned in over his shoulder.

As I hurriedly scrawled half of an essay into my notebook, I felt something hit my head. Glancing up in surprise, I watched as Stiles shot a glare at someone behind me. Turning slightly, I noticed Jackson standing by the door. He rolled his eyes at Stiles, before catching my eye, and motioning to the floor, where a balled up scrap of paper lay beside my chair.  
Unwrapping it, I read the hastily written words and immediately stood. I gathered my things and zipped my bag, ignoring Stiles's curious gaze as I made my way over to Jackson.

"Stay here, and watch Lydia," I ordered him, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Make sure she stays in the library." Gripping his arm to keep him from moving for a second, I tilted my head slightly, speaking in the direction of Scott. "Scott, we have trouble."

I let Jackson go with a gentle push, directing him towards the seat I had just left. Scott stood up, and motioned for Allison and Stiles to follow.

Outside, I searched for somewhere quiet, and stumbled upon an empty - and unlocked - office. Waiting until everyone was inside and the door was closed, I handed Jackson's note to Allison, and folded my arms.

"Derek's outside," I told the two boys. "Jackson saw him. He's on the lacrosse field, waiting for Lydia."

"Waiting to kill her?" Allison asked worriedly.

"If he thinks she's the kanima, then yes, especially after what happened at the pool," Scott answered her.

"It's not her," Stiles spoke up, and I blew out a breath of relief.

"Stiles, she didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened," Scott winced, looking as though the words physically pained him to say.

"She didn't pass the test because she didn't consume the venom," I tried, lamely. "Maybe it's... Finicky. Maybe there's rules, or a guidebook - It's not Lydia. I'd know, wouldn't I?" I frowned. "At least I think I'd know. I should know."

"It doesn't matter," Allison sighed, interrupting my rambling. "Derek thinks it's her, so either we can convince him that he's wrong, or we've got to figure out a way to protect her."

"Well, I really don't think he's gonna do anything here, not at school," Scott reasoned.

"What about after school? What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?" Allison tried.

"By three o'clock?" Stiles asked, sounding dubious.

"There could be something in the bestiary," suggested the archer.

"Oh, you mean the 900 page book written in archaic Latin that none of us can read? Good luck with that," Stiles replied sarcastically. He winced when I slapped his arm, admonishing him silently.

"Actually, I think I know someone who might be able to translate it," Allison continued, ignoring the tone in his voice.

"Uh, I can talk to Derek now, maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove that it's not her. But if anything happens, you guys let me handle it, okay?"

Judging by the looks on Stiles and Allison's faces, they felt the same way about that plan that I did.

"What does that mean?" Allison questioned, sounding only slightly offended.

"That you can't heal like I do. I just don't want you to get hurt," Scott said, speaking directly to Allison.

Stiles glanced at me, and began to make kissy faces. I smothered my grin.

"I can protect myself," Allison said, sounding amused. She pulled her backpack off her shoulder, and tugged it open, revealing the miniature crossbow she had been hiding inside.

"Girl's packing," I chirped, a smirk on my face, as Stiles let out a low whistle.

Noticing the look on Scott's face, Allison set down the crossbow on the desk, and stepped towards Scott.

"What? Did something else happen?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt. Seriously, if anything goes wrong, you call me, okay? I I don't care if your dad finds out. Call, text, scream, yell, whatever," Scott pleaded. "I'll hear you and I'll find you as fast as I can. We have until three."

As Scott spoke, begging almost, I watched as Stiles slowly inched towards to crossbow. I watched as he picked it up, and I coughed to get his attention, intent on telling him to put it down. Stiles was far too clumsy to be playing with a crossbow.  
As the boy turned his head towards me, his finger slipped, and pressed down on the trigger. A startled yelp escaped me as the arrow flew out of the crossbow, heading right for Scott's back.

The werewolf, sensing the danger, spun quickly and grabbed the arrow mid air, right before it burrowed in his chest.

The flashes of annoyance on Allison and Scott's separate faces reminded me instantly of my parents, and I fought not to laugh. Stiles huffed sheepishly, and set down the crossbow immediately.

"Ah, sorry, sorry," He smiled. "Sensitive trigger on that, heh."

Rolling his eyes, but struggling not to grin, Scott handed the arrow back to Allison and made for the door.

"Wait!" Stiles called.

Gone was the sheepish expression, having been replaced by one of stern determination. He stood a bit taller, licked his lips, and almost looked pained as he sighed. "Take Olivia with you."

Silence settled around us.

"To see Derek?" Scott frowned. "_You_ want _her_ to see _Derek_?"

Stiles only glanced at me briefly before looking resolutely over my head at Scott. "Derek listens to her," Stiles explained, still looking as though he was being pinched.

"He clearly didn't listen to me last night," I scoffed.

"He did," Stiles disagreed, sounding resigned. "Despite what he's doing now, he did listen to you." Stiles took a breath, "He _always_ listens to you."

Shifting from one foot to the other, Stiles shot me a small smile. "If anyone has a chance at swaying him, it's you. It's worth a shot."

Nodding slowly, I said only one thing. "Okay."

"You and Allison get Lydia, take her to my place. Sneak her out of the school," Scott ordered. "We'll meet you there."

"Get Jackson too!" I called, last minute. "Strength in numbers, and he's not exactly off Derek's radar either. He won't put up a fight."

Allison nodded, and reached up to kiss Scott, before ducking back into the hallway, waiting for Stiles to follow. When he hesitated, Scott shot us a grin, and ducked out, closing the door behind him.

"You're not happy about this," I said.

"Not happy about sending my - you - to Derek?" Stiles flushed slightly. "No, but I'm not stupid either. We have to think strategy here, and you could be our checkmate."

"A chess analogy?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow wryly. "You play?"

"For years now," Stiles nodded.

"You'll have to teach me," I said, smiling.

"Well, on my board, you can be the queen," Stiles smiled back.

I laughed, "Damn straight." Reaching forward, I took his hand in mine. "It'll be okay."

Stiles squeezed my hand gently. "Yeah," he nodded. "I'll see you later."

With that, he let go of my hand and walked to the door. He held it open for me, and I smiled shyly, ducking out into the hallway where Scott and I split with Allison and Stiles, heading for the lacrosse pitch.

* * *

However, instead of finding Derek, we found Boyd. Stood in the middle of the field, I couldn't ignore just how much bigger he seemed to be. Boyd had always been muscular, and quiet to an intimidating degree, but now, stood with his hands in his pocket and his trademark stoic expression in place, I fought the urge to hide behind Scott.

We stopped in front of him, side by side, and watched as his gaze traveled from Scott, to me, back to Scott.

"We want to talk to Derek," Scott said.

"Talk to me."

"I don't want to fight," Scott answered Boyd.

"Good, 'cause I'm twice the size of you," Boyd said coolly. He looked at me, and seemed amused. "And you -"

"I'm short, I get it," I rolled my eyes.

"You're human," Boyd finished. "I believe in fair fights."

"Well, aren't you the noble enforcer?" I quipped sarcastically.

"Who says I'm an enforcer?" Boyd asked.

"Because, you're right. You are twice the size of Scott. You have a certain presence," I explained. "Classic intimidation tactic. Honestly, it's almost boring."

"It's true, it's very true," Scott agreed. "But wanna know what I think? I'm twice as fast."

"Wanna find out?"

"No!" I exclaimed, but it was too late.

Boyd ran at Scott, pushing me out of the way, and tackled him to the ground. Arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind, and I turned, pulling from them roughly.

"Stop him!" I ordered, shoving Derek away from me.

"Scott's winning," Derek called, and I glanced back.

It was true. Scott had the upper hand, ducking in and out of Boyd's grasp faster than Boyd was able to move. However, Boyd's large fist lashed out and connected with Scott's stomach, knocking him to the ground. The fight went on for another few minutes, with both werewolves gaining the upper hand only to lose it again.

I turned back to Derek, "Call it off!"

Derek glanced at me, and then sighed. "Boyd, back off."

Instantly, Boyd retreated. He stood up, panting heavily, and to my surprise, he held out his hand and pulled Scott up.

"Like I said," Boyd breathed. "I believe in fair fights."

Once the fight was over and done with, I rounded on Derek, pushing him back again.

"What is your problem?!" I shrieked. "We made a deal, and now you're trying to kill my best friend?!"

Boyd stepped up behind me, reaching out to grab me in order to restrain me from hitting Derek again. Scott growled warningly behind us, and I almost did too.

"Leave her," Derek ordered him, holding up his hand.

For some reason, this made me angry, and I turned around to face Boyd. "Yeah, Boyd, be a good boy and roll over!" I hissed. I spun around to Derek again. "She is not the kanima!"

"She failed the test, Olivia," Derek reasoned, entirely too calm. "She touched the poison, and she didn't react. Stiles touched it, and he was paralyzed. She failed the test."

"But that doesn't prove anything," Scott attempted. "Lydia's different."

"I know, at night she turns into a homicidal walking snake."

"There's only one snake I see around here," I sassed, folding my arms.

"I'm not going to let you kill her," Scott warned.

"Who said I was going to do it?" Derek questioned. "I don't know why you think you have to protect everyone now, Scott, but even so, Lydia has killed people and she's gonna do it again, and next time, it's gonna be one of us."

"It's not her!" I exclaimed in frustration, though I was ignored.

"What if you're wrong?" argued Scott.

"She was bitten by an Alpha. It's her," Derek assured.

"You saw that thing up close," countered Scott. "It's not like us."

"But it is!" Derek shouted. "We're all shapeshifters, Scott. You don't know what you're dealing with. It happens rarely and it happens for a reason."

"What reason?" I asked, frustration replaced by a curious fear.

"Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are -"

I barked a laugh. "Really? Then how come you're not a giant di-"

"Even Stiles calls her cold-blooded." Derek continued, his eyes flashing to me at my comment.

"He doesn't mean it literally," I rolled my eyes.

"Well, what if she's immune?" Scott asked rationally. "What if she's got something inside of her that makes her immune to the bite, which is why she didn't get paralyzed?"

"No one's immune! I've never seen it or heard of it. It's ne - it's never happened."

Catching on to how Derek had almost stumbled over his words, a slow smirk spread across my face. "Now, that's not true," I sang.  
Scott frowned, suddenly reminding me that I had promised Jackson I wouldn't say anything. I winced, and decided it was for the greater good.

"What are you talking about?" Scott asked, genuinely confused.

"Lydia's not the only one seemingly immune to the bite," I said. "Jackson wanted to be turned, and he's still human."

"You turned Jackson?!" Scott yelled.

"He tried," I corrected. "For some reason, it didn't work. Is that why you tested him?"

"Olivia -"

"Peter said the bite either kills you or turns you," Scott recalled.

"And neither happened to Jackson," I added. "And you have no idea why."

"No," Derek sighed.

"Well, now I have a theory," Scott spoke up. "Lydia's immune, and somehow she passed it on to Jackson. You know it's possible."

"It's not."

"Derek!" I cried, exasperated. "There are three werewolves standing here, one of which is you, two people have survived the bite and there's a weird serial killing lizard running around our town! Do not stand there and tell us that something isn't possible."

"It isn't, Olivia!"

"It clearly is, Derek!"

"Look, I can't let her live!" Derek turned to Scott. "You should have known that!"

"I was hoping I would convince you, but then, I wasn't counting on it," Scott admitted.

Boyd's phone buzzed in his pocket, and when he read the message he had received, he clenched his jaw. "Lydia's not at school anymore."

"Oh," I said, sounding concerned. "Was she feeling unwell? Was she feeling like the homicidal creature that she_ isn't_?"

"You distracted us," Derek realized, and he actually looked proud. "Your idea?" He asked, looking at me.

"Scott's idea to talk to you," I revealed. "Stiles's idea to send me."

"Hm," Derek hummed, smirking softly. "Where is she?"

"Where is who?"

"Beacon Hills isn't that big, we'll find her," Derek chuckled.

"Who said she's in Beacon Hills?" I countered.

Derek glanced over my head to Boyd, and nodded. In the space of a few seconds, they were gone, and Scott and I were left on the lacrosse field.

"Nice right hook," I smirked, earning a smile.

"Nice smart comments," Scott replied, and I laughed.

"So what now, boss?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

"Go to them," Scott decided. "If he finds her, I want you there with everyone. You and Stiles are a good team, I know you'll figure something out. Plus, like you said earlier, strength in numbers."

"What about you?" I asked.

"I'll meet you later," Scott promised.

"She'll worry if I show up alone," I said, referring to Allison. "So will Stiles."

"Then you can tell them I'm okay," Scott said.

I nodded once, and then reached out, squeezing my old friend's arm. "Be careful," I spoke firmly, and Scott placed his hand over mine briefly.

"You too."

I turned then, and left Scott behind.

* * *

This chapter was a bit of a monster to write, as you can probably tell by the delay. I had a bit of a panic halfway through, deleted a huge chunk and rewrote it.

The next chapter will hopefully be up much sooner than this was. I already have some cute Stiles/Olivia scenes written, and I'm working on the big kanima reveal, and what I want to do with that. The next chapter is definitely going to be interesting.

And there's a date! Not in the next chapter, but definitely soon! A real, proper date between our two awkward teenagers. That is definitely going to be fun. If anyone has any ideas as to what they'd like to see on the date, let me know! With these two, anything could happen.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed!

Until next time,

Megan.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hazy**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

On the way to Scott's, my stomach was in knots. I wasn't sure how long it would take for Derek to realize where we were keeping Lydia. After all, Derek wasn't stupid, and the location wasn't all that secure. We had had to think on our toes, and Scott's place just seemed logical.

Though, now that I thought of it, it really wasn't. We could have brought Lydia literally anywhere else, and we had chosen Scott's! A desperate laugh rose in my throat, and I choked it back, producing a sound that resembled a distressed sob. I tapped my finger anxiously on the steering wheel, reminding myself to breathe and focus on my driving. I turned off the radio as the noise was distracting and ultimately stressing me out more so than I already was.

Finally, when I reached Scott's street, I parked outside - a bit awkwardly - and raced up the porch steps, clutching my bag. My fist was just poised to knock when the door was wrenched open, and Stiles appeared. He wrapped his hand around mine and pulled me inside.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked.

"What happened?" Jackson's voice came next.

"Where's Scott?"

"Let a girl breathe," I coughed, taking a deep breath. My heart was pounding in my chest, and momentarily I promised to get fit. If those porch steps had knocked the breath out me that fast then something was wrong. However, there was a clenching in my stomach that made me consider another reason for my racing heart. I glanced behind me, and then remembered that I did not, unfortunately, possess the ability to see through solid objects.

"Scott's OK," I answered Allison first. "He's going to meet us here in a while. Where he went, I don't know. I am also fine," I added, turning to Stiles. "And other than Boyd and Scott fighting and Derek being borderline insufferable, nothing of great importance came of our conversation," I finished, addressing Jackson. "They're still after Lydia." It was then that I noticed a distinct lack of the redhead. "Where is Lydia?"

"In the bathroom," Allison answered. "She's confused but she's OK. We told her this was a study group."

"Good thing I brought my books then," I commented, finally getting my breath back. I folded my arms low around my torso, rubbing at my stomach to try and alleviate some of the pressure I was feeling. A chill was settling over me.

"Who turned down the heat in here?" I asked, a slight shiver to my voice.

"No one," Allison frowned. "I was actually going to turn the heat down."

"I'm freezing," I said, as Lydia came down the stairs.

"You're always cold," Lydia laughed, coming down the stairs. I pulled a face at her. "You're also late to the party," She noted, and I nodded.

"Uh, yeah, I just had to check on... Bear," I said. "And collect... Lucy."

Lydia shrugged, "So, are we studying for this midterm or what?"

"Yeah, we can start," Allison said. "Scott will be here too, in a while."

The end of her sentence almost sound like anxious questioning, and I nodded back to her.

"In a while," I echoed, confirming.

Allison took a breath, and she and Lydia walked over to the couches, Jackson following. I moved to join them, and felt Stiles brush his hand over my back. I shot him a small smile.

"Are you OK?" He asked again.

"Little stomach ache," I said. "It's probably nothing."

"Is it...?" Stiles trailed off, but his question was clear.

"No," I said. "It couldn't be. We're alone here, there's no reason for me to feel like we're in danger."

"Tell me if it gets worse?"

"I will," I promised. "Now, come on," I said, grabbing his hand. "We have a mid term to study for."

* * *

Fifteen minutes after I had arrived at Scott's, Erica and Isaac showed up outside on the street. Peeking out through the curtain, I huffed and let the fabric close, hiding us inside.

"They tailed me!" I exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "They must have. How did I not think of that happening?"

"They would have found us eventually," Allison comforted. "Scott's house wasn't the best place."

"Why aren't they moving?" Jackson drawled, still staring out.

"They're waiting us out," Stiles said. "Or they're waiting for Derek."

"So am I," I snapped, and moved away from the window. I moved to the coffee table and began picking up our books. "Let's move all of this into the kitchen, she doesn't need to see."

Knowing that I was referring to Lydia, the others moved to help me gather our things, and move them to the kitchen, where Lydia had been, pouring us drinks.

"Change of scenery," was all I said to explain as I gratefully took the glass of soda and took a sip.

"OK," Lydia said slowly, and then fell silent.

I turned around to take a seat at the table, only to see Allison worriedly glancing at her phone. I walked behind her, and squeezed her shoulder gently, comforting her. We were all starting to worry about Scott's lack of presence. Where was he? Was he okay? What was he doing? No one knew.

Another hour passed with only one development. Under the pretense of going to the bathroom, the four of us took turns to keep an eye on the werewolves outside. During one of these trips, I noticed that Boyd and Derek had arrived, and Allison - who had been nearby - managed to wrangle me back into the kitchen before I stormed out to confront Derek.

Now the girl was alternating between watching me and watching her phone, still waiting on news from Scott.

"Hey, did you get the chemistry notes?" Lydia asked me, breaking the somewhat tense silence.

"Yeah," I replied, standing. "They're in my bag."

I entered the living room for the fourth time that hour, and rubbed at my forehead, which felt hot to the touch. Bending down to root through my bag for the notebook, I gasped and let the strap fall from my hands. My bag landed with a light thud against the carpet, the thick books inside causing the noise. Ignoring my fallen bag, I moved to sit on the couch, grasping my head in my hands as nausea swirled in my stomach. Footsteps sounded off behind me, and Jackson's voice broke through the hazy pain.

"What's up with you?"

The thumping roared behind my eyes, but as I took deep breaths, I was able to open my eyes again. It was then that I noticed the trail of goosebumps that marked my arms, a result of the cold sensation flooding my veins. Jackson's question had drawn attention from my other friends, who were now rushing into the living room. Lydia and Allison were on either side of me in a second.

"What's wrong?" they asked in unison.

"I think I'm getting a migraine," I lied, feeling my stomach swoop.

Instantly, Lydia stood. "I'll look for painkillers, you sit tight." With that, the redhead disappeared upstairs.

Once I could hear her moving around up there, I removed my hands from my face and clasped them in my lap. "We're not safe here," I announced. Instantly, Stiles turned towards the window. In front of me, Jackson scoffed.

"Well, duh," he rolled his eyes, "Derek and his band of misfits are right outside."

"It's not _them_," I snapped. "I don't feel like this around Derek."

Stilinski's ears perked up. "What... do you... _feel_ ... around Derek? For future reference purposes of course."

"Of course," I echoed sarcastically, shooting him a look. "Irritation, mostly. Frustration, slight amusement. Concern. Basically the same things I feel around my _brother_."

Thoroughly chastised, Stiles ducked his head, his mouth parted in a silent 'oh'. When I reached up to rub at my temples again, he came to sit beside me, touching my back gently.

"Maybe it's because Erica, Isaac and Boyd are with him," Allison suggested. "It could be them."

"Maybe," I answered, though I wasn't convinced. There was something else playing around the edges of my brain, some piece of information just teasingly out of reach.

"You should really talk to Deaton," Stiles said. "He might help you understand all this."

"What is all _this_?" Jackson asked then. "Oh my God, are you a freak?"

He sounded entirely too amused by that.

"Dude!" Stiles exclaimed, at the same time that I grabbed a pillow and used it to hit Jackson in the face.

"It's called tact, Jackson," Allison shook her head, disapproval in her voice.

"What?" He laughed. "What's so wrong with Olivia being a freak? I already called that months ago."

Though Stiles and Allison were growing offended on my behalf, I surprised them by laughing. "Were you so relieved to know you weren't the only freak in Beacon Hills?" I asked, smiling.

Jackson winked, "Well, I do like to get _freaky_."

"That's horrifying," I grimaced, only to laugh again.

"You two have the weirdest friendship I've ever seen," Allison drawled.

"If that's the case, you don't want to meet any of my friends from Modesto," I smiled innocently.

"Can we get back to the whole not being safe here thing?" Stiles asked then. "Do you... sense anything?"

"I sense something," I answered hesitantly. "What it is, I can't decipher. It could be a presence, it could be only a feeling or a thought. I have no idea. I just know something is not right."

"I wish Scott was here," Allison moaned. "We're sitting ducks here."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs caused us all to fall silent. Lydia appeared holding a silver packet in her hand. She handed it to me.  
"Only take one of these with a glass of water," She ordered. I nodded, saying a silent thank you as I stood and made my way into the kitchen. On my way, I brushed into Jackson and froze.

"Why are you so cold?" I asked, frowning. Jackson frowned too.

"No, I'm not," Jackson said. "It must be you."

I reached out, almost as though I was going to touch him, and then dropped my hand with a shrug. God, the pain was really playing tricks on me. My friends followed me back into the kitchen, where I quickly swallowed the pill along with a glass of water. Silence settled around us for a few moments until Jackson cleared his throat, and asked to speak with Lydia alone, upstairs.  
Lydia tossed Allison and I a look before reluctantly following her ex-boyfriend upstairs, leaving us alone. Allison quickly pulled out her phone and dialed Scott's number again, chewing on her bottom lip worriedly. Stiles came to stand beside me at the sink, reaching out and rubbing my back.

"Feel better?"

"No," I answered, eyebrows furrowed. There was something in my head, something bouncing around. Information. Instinct. Something that was too fast for me to catch. I felt as though, again, I was missing something. "Derek's not causing it," I mumbled. "I don't feel like the others are either. It's something else."

"Is it Scott?" Allison questioned, reaching Scott's voice mail again. "Please don't say you're sensing that Scott's in trouble."

"No, it's... it's here," I answered. "It's something in this house, I think," I finished quietly, allowing my eyes to roam around the kitchen for the answer. Without truly thinking about it, my eyes rose to the ceiling and paused there.  
A cold chill ran up and down my spine, my skin breaking out in goosebumps. I had touched Jackson and I had grown cold. Just like I had that day in the hallway. It wasn't me. It was something about Jackson.

"Olivia?" Stiles's voice sounded miles away as I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes slowly glazing over as I just stared. I couldn't look away.

"Olivia!" Stiles called again, snapping his fingers in front of my face. His hands cupped my face, his thumb brushing along my cheeks.

"What's wrong with her?" Allison's voice joined in the haze.

"I have no idea."

"It's him!" A voice yelled, strangled and high pitched. The voice sounded scared, broken and completely manic. It was with a start that I realized the voice was my own.

I had grown so cold that I was shivering, and Stiles's hands went from my face to my hands, clasping them in his own.

"What's him? Who? Olivia, look at me - " I did. "What's going on?"

"It's..." I faltered, staring into Stilinski's warm brown eyes. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell them. Derek was outside. I couldn't tell any of them. "It's... Derek..." I lied. "It's Derek. It's Derek."

"I thought you said -"

"It's Derek," I repeated, interrupting Stiles. I pulled my hands from his, and walked towards Allison. I told her to call Scott again, and made my way back into the living room. Hands twitching, I reached into my bag and took out a notebook. Scribbling down all my evidence, I reached my conclusion with a gasp.

It really was him.  
It really was Jackson.

"What are you writing?" Allison asked, causing me to jump. I didn't answer, and instead tore up the page. I glanced up at the ceiling again, knowing my behavior was causing concern amongst the two teenagers.

"How long have they been talking?" I asked, looking at my watch. "Two... three... four minutes," I counted. "Four minutes. Silence. Four minutes."

As I muttered the number four a few times, with no real focus on the number itself, I flopped down onto the couch, lost in thought. Jackson was the Kanima. It was him the whole time. Did he know? He must. He didn't. He wouldn't be here if he knew, surely. He wouldn't put himself so close to danger. They would kill him, I realized frantically. If Derek and his pack knew, they would kill Jackson. If the hunters found out, they would kill Jackson. Jackson was in danger. Jackson was _a_ danger. But did he know?

"Oh, jeez, what are you doing?" Stiles's voice broke the silence and I glanced up, my expression one of resolve.

Jackson wasn't going to die. I wasn't going to let it happen. He was my friend.

"I think– I think I have to call my dad," Allison shakily answered. I shot up off the couch, and almost hopped over it to look out the window. They were still there, just standing outside.

"No, but if he finds you here – you and Scott – " Stiles broke off, unsure of what to say next.

"I know," Allison sighed. "But what are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay? They're here to kill Lydia."

_It's not her!_

"I got an idea," Stiles said, and something about his tone made me turn around. He was eying Allison's crossbow. "Just shoot one of 'em."

"Are you serious?" the brunette asked, wide eyed.

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it. Or at least give it a shot, right?"

"Okay."

"Let me talk to him again," I tried.

"With the rest of them out there, not a chance," Stiles said firmly.

"Boyd is alright," I weakly attempted.

"I know I said all I said about Derek and you earlier, but I'm still not risking it," Stiles shook his head. "I'm not letting you go out there."

"Caveman," I grunted, but relented, folding my arms across my chest and glancing towards the stairs again.

"Look," Stiles continued, ignoring my comment, "they don't think we're gonna fight, so if one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of 'em."

Allison nervously cleared her throat, and loaded her bow, "Which one?"

"Uh, Derek," Stiles decided. "Yeah, shoot him, preferably in the head."

I rolled my eyes at that and looked at Allison, "Do not."

"I won't," the girl promised. "If Scott was able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, uh, just shoot one of the other three then," Stiles suggested.

"You mean two," Allison corrected, peering through the slightly parted curtain.

"No, I mean three," Stiles said slowly, sharing a frown with me. In unison, we both joined her at the window and peered out. "Where the hell is Isaac?" Stiles whispered.

I backed away from the window, taking silent steps. My intent was to run upstairs, to warn the others, but a hand wrapped itself around my mouth, and another slid around my front, locking me in place.  
Isaac's breath tickled my ear, and I froze. Then, very swiftly, I stamped on his foot, hard. Though it wasn't as harmful as I intended, Isaac still bent forward slightly, reacting to the pain. I then lowered my head and brought it back swiftly, aiming for his face. Isaac, realizing my intent, moved his head to the side and slid his hand from my mouth to my neck.  
Before his hand could wrap around my neck, I grabbed it and ran us both backwards, into the wall. The arm around my waist faltered, and I broke out of his grasp. I balled up my fist and sent a swift punch to his jaw, only for him to catch my wrist mid-air and squeeze with a bruising strength.

"Hey!" Allison's voice yelled, and Isaac turned his wolf face towards her.

Allison's crossbow came sailing through the air, smacking Isaac in the face. He let out a growl, and pushed me backwards. I collided with Stiles who had armed himself with a lamp, and we and it went crashing to the ground. Isaac grabbed the crossbow from Allison and tossed it to the side, throwing her to the floor too. I chose that moment to roll of Stiles and run for the stairs. Along the way, I managed to kick Allison's crossbow to Stiles, who hollered her name, and threw it to her. Distracted by the bolt sailing towards him, Isaac didn't notice me sprinting up the stairs.

Turning the corner, I smacked straight into Lydia, who let out a scream of fright, only calming slightly when she realized it was me.

"What was that? What's happening?" Lydia interrogated.

"Get back," Allison whispered, appearing behind me. There was a crash downstairs, and I fought the urge to run back down. Stiles was down there, _alone_ with Isaac. "Someone's trying to break in," Allison continued.

"You need to hide," I said, grabbing Lydia by the shoulders and pushing her none too gently towards the bathroom, where she ran inside, and locked the door.

"Where's Jackson?" Allison asked.

"I'll find him," I decided. "Help Stiles. Go!"

With Allison running back down the stairs, I threw open the door of Scott's room just as the power went out.

"Jackson!" I called, my eyes drawn to the only source of light in the empty room. The open window. I ran to it, about to put my hands down on the flat surface when I spotted the dripping venom on it.

"Jackson!" I called again, and leaned out as much as I could in time to see a tail disappear above me. He was on the roof.

"Great!" I muttered to myself and spun around. Allison appeared at the doorway then. She ran in, and locked the door behind her, armed with her crossbow.

"It's here," I informed her, nodding to the open window. "The Kanima is here. Where is Stiles?"

"Downstairs. He's okay, he's calling Scott. I shot Isaac," Allison breathed. "I was halfway up the stairs when the power went. It's really here? What are we going to do?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Allison held her hand up, signaling me to be quiet. Slowly, she moved away from the door, and grasped my wrist, pulling me behind her. The girl aimed her crossbow at the door, and waited.  
A second later, the door busted open, the broken lock clattering to the floor. Erica stood in the doorway, looking more smug than she should have been with a crossbow pointing at her.

"Hmm," the blonde hummed, "this might make me sound like kind of a bitch, but I've always wondered what it feels like to steal someone's boyfriend."

"You're right, that does make you sound like a bitch," I snapped. Allison remained quiet, and focused.

She smirked at Allison, ignoring me, "I bet it's a pretty sick rush of power. I think I might try it with Scott. You know what – I don't think it's gonna be that hard, because why would he be waiting around to steal 10 minutes with you, when he can have me anytime he wants?"

In a second, an arrow dislodged from the chamber of Allison's crossbow, and flew through the air. However, it only grazed Erica's curled hair, and Erica reached out, grabbing the arrow faster than the blink of an eye.

Erica laughed smugly, "You didn't really think that would work, did you?"

"Actually," Allison spoke, sounding more pleased than I thought she would, "I did."

It was then that Erica's eyebrows creased, and the blonde's entire arm began to shake. She opened her palm, and it was then I saw the substance that coated her hand. _Venom_. Erica collapsed onto the ground, paralyzed but alive. I let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through my hair as Allison approached her, and bent down beside her. She brushed Erica's hair back from her face.

"I thought you were psychic. Bitch."

A loud laugh escaped me. "Is that what you did to Isaac?" I asked. "You are awesome. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Allison grinned at me, and stood. Together, we left Erica laying motionless on the floor and ran down the stairs. Stiles jumped when we arrived in the living room.

"Are you okay?" He asked, fussing over me for a minute. I nodded, and checked him over too. "Allison?" He asked.

"I'm fine," Allison nodded.

My hand rose, and I brushed my fingers along what looked like a forming bruise along his jaw. Stiles winced, and I sheepishly pulled my hand away, apologizing.

"Are Derek and Boyd still outside?" I asked.

"Haven't moved," Stiles replied.

"It's here," Allison said.

"What is?" Stiles frowned.

"The Kanima," Scott's voice caused us all to turn. The werewolf descended the stairs, carrying Erica's frozen body over his shoulder. He roughly let her down beside Isaac.

"Open the door," he grunted. Allison moved, and opened the front door without question.

In a flash, Scott had thrown Erica and Isaac's paralyzed bodies out onto the front lawn. He stalked out after them, standing on the porch as the three of us hurried to follow, standing behind him. Isaac and Erica were groaning, but unharmed. Boyd glanced over at them, and looked as though he wanted to check on them. However, he remained at Derek's side. Derek huffed, and met Scott's eyes.

"I think I'm finally getting why you keep refusing me, Scott," he said. "You're not an omega, you're already an Alpha of your own pack. But you know you can't beat me."

"I can hold you off until the cops get here," Scott threatened. Just then, sirens sounded in the distance, causing Derek and us to glance down the road.

By the sounds of them, we still had a few minutes until they arrived. Scott might have been able to hold Derek off for those few minutes, but a loud hissing from above reminded us all that werewolves were not the only threat.  
Scott reached behind him, and hurriedly pulled Allison off the porch. He then reached out and grasped Stiles's shoulder, pushing him towards Allison and motioning for me to follow. Scott moved last, standing in front of us, making me realize what Derek had said was true. Scott was already an alpha in his own right. He was protecting us, his pack.

I leaned into Stiles, who wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me closer to his body as the hissing grew. The Kanima slowly revealed himself, his yellow eyes blinking down at us, his sharp teeth bared. It let out a screech that had us all taking a step backwards. Then, it simply turned and launched itself onto the roof of the next house, and then the next, and then it disappeared completely.

"Get them out of here," Derek ordered Boyd. "I'm going after her."

_Her_

"No!" I shrieked desperately, tearing myself from Stiles. Derek had began walking in the direction that the Kanima had gone, and I ran after him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "It's not her. It's - he doesn't know - it's not his fault! He doesn't know! He can't know, it's not - he's not - you can't -"

I was flustered, and panicked, and I sounded absolutely mad. I knew all of it to be true. But my distress had caused everyone to pause, including Derek.

"What are you _talking_ about?" Derek demanded to know.

Just then, the sound of heels against the wood of the porch alerted us to another presence. In a ball of strawberry blonde haired rage, Lydia Martin somehow managed to glare at all of us at the exact same time.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!" She exclaimed.

Then, the light bulbs seemed to go off. The same light bulbs I desperately wanted to switch off. They _knew_. They were all figuring it out.

"It's Jackson," Scott breathed, and just like that, everything fell to pieces.

Silence settled upon us, everyone but Lydia and myself in shock. I still had my arms wrapped around Derek's arm, reminding me of a time I had done the same wrestling with Carter, trying to convince my brother not to tell our parents that I had been the one to break my mom's favorite vase. Subconsciously, I tightened my grip around Derek's arm, wishing for my brother to appear and fix everything in that moment.

"Is someone going to explain this to me?!" Lydia asked, growing impatient.

"Someone broke in," I said, finally letting go of Derek and stepping forward, onto the grass. "Jackson went to get help, but they're gone now."

"What are they doing here?" Lydia asked, motioning to Derek and his group.

"Visiting," Derek said.

"Passing by," Stiles lied, at the same time. I watched as the two of them glared at each other, and I cleared my throat, moving forward a bit more, away from both of them.

"They were passing by, and decided to visit," I attempted a smile of relief. "They scared the guys away."

"And what's wrong with those two?" Lydia questioned, referring to Erica and Isaac who were slowly but surely unfreezing. They could now move enough to sit up, though they were both groaning.

"Stoned."

Eyes turned quickly to Scott, who shrugged helplessly.

"Right," Derek rolled his eyes. "They're _stoned_. Which is why Boyd and I need to get them out of here before the cops show up and bust them."

"Let's go back into the house," Allison suggested, moving towards Lydia. "It's cold out here, and the cops will be here soon."

Distracted, Lydia didn't notice Derek and Boyd disappearing with Erica and Isaac into the shadows.

* * *

The cops came, and went. Questions were answered, lies were told, and promises to be careful were made before finally, the McCall house was emptied of the well meaning police officers. Lydia, thankfully, gave the same story that we gave. Someone broke in, and were scared off. She didn't mention Derek, or any of the others. We explained away the broken lamp as an accident, and the bruise on Stiles's jaw had come from a lacrosse practice gone bad, and nothing more. The bruise on my wrist was easily covered by my sleeve, and we got away without having to explain that one.

Stiles stayed behind with Scott to help clean up, whilst I took Allison and Lydia home. On the way to Lydia's, Allison and I dodged a barrage of questions with half hearted answers. We knew we were upsetting her by being vague, but we were unsure how to answer her questions anyway. Finally, we reached her house and said her goodbyes. We managed to leave it on a happy note, as none of us wanted to leave angry with each other.

Thankfully, the drive to Allison's was much different. The two of us fell into a comfortable silence, only broken when we arrived, and Allison got out. Before she left, she reached over and gave me a wordless hug. I hugged my friend back tightly, and bid her a goodnight before driving to my own house.

Letting myself in quietly, I made my way tiredly to my room. Every light in the house was switched off, and I figured that both of my parents were asleep. I greeted Bear with a genuine smile, and changed quickly into an old hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. I threw my hair up into a messy bun and wrapped a scarf around my neck.

"Okay, Bear, let's make this quick," I said, plucking him from the doggie play pen my mother had bought to keep him from wrecking the place.

I slipped on my furry slippers and made my way downstairs, allowing Bear to snuggle into the warmth of my scarf. At the front door, I attached his lead to his collar, and moved to open the front door. Only to stop, when movement from the kitchen made me pause.  
A low vibration could be heard from inside, one I recognized as the low hum of my father's voice. Quietly, I made my way towards the door, positioning myself behind the wall as I squinted through the crack in the door.

My father had his back turned, and a phone pressed to his ear. His glasses hung from his other hand as he scratched at the top of his head. By his posture, I knew he was tense.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?... Is this really the best option we have, it could be dangerous. ... Right, you're right. It is for -" He turned around and spotted me before I could move away. "Olivia! I didn't hear you get in."

I frowned, confused by what I had heard. "Yeah, I... who is that?"

"Oh, just another professor from the college," my father smiled, forcing an ease that was uncharacteristic of him. "Yes, we'll talk more tomorrow. Okay, goodnight."

"What could be dangerous?" I asked instantly.

"Hm?"

"You said something could be dangerous. What is it?"

"Oh, um, the college is thinking of switching the main textbooks for my course," my father had that easy smile on again. "It could be dangerous for the students who have already learned the original material. For their grades. That's all. Nothing to worry about, poppet."

_Poppet_. Something was definitely wrong here.

"You haven't called me that in three years," I said.

"What?" my dad scoffed. "Of course I have. I've always called you that. Now, you look exhausted. Take Bear out and get some rest, okay?"

"Okay," I said slowly, still in a sort of shock. Poppet had stopped being a nickname a long time ago.

My father disappeared upstairs, and I turned, flicking off the kitchen light.

"Everyone is weird today," I whispered to Bear, finally bringing him outside.

I made sure to stretch the lead out to give Bear enough space, and sat down on the porch step, holding my tired head in my hand. The day had been long, and stressful, and I knew in my heart that sleep was not to be a relief.  
And apparently, I would find no relief in the cool night air either as a familiar car pulled up in front of my driveway.

"If my dad finds you here -"

"He's asleep," Derek said, glancing upwards at one of the windows. As Derek went to step closer, Bear reared back and growled. His ears flattened against his head, and his lips curled backwards to show off his sharp, baby teeth.

"Bear," I scolded firmly. "Give it up!"

"It's okay," Derek smiled, crouching down in front of Bear. "He knows what I am," he explained. Derek flashed his alpha eyes at Bear, and then reached out his hand. As Bear walked forward and gave Derek's hand a lick, Derek smiled. "He'll make a good guard dog."

"Living here, I'll need it," I scoffed. "If you're here to give me a speech, save it."

"He's dangerous."

"He's my_ friend_," I argued. "And you are too. Or, you were. I stuck up for you when Peter was around, I've stuck up for you many times since. You owe it to me to wait. We don't even know the full story yet, Derek -"

"He's killed people, Olivia," Derek sighed softly.

"I know," I said quietly. "But I'm telling you, it doesn't make sense. I've gotten to know Jackson over these last few months. I know him better than anyone thinks. He's not evil. He's a lost boy. And whatever's happening to him, I don't think it's his choice." I stood up and approached the man, pleading. "So, _please_, just work with us on this. Let's stop fighting and start thinking. Like we agreed."

Derek stared at me for a few moments, and then heaved a sigh. "I'm going looking for him -"

"Derek -"

"Not to kill him," Derek assured me. "But we need to know what we're dealing with. Jackson the boy is one thing, Jackson the Kanima is another. But I won't kill him."

"Thank you," I whispered sincerely.

The low purring of an engine alerted us to a new presence. The powder blue Jeep that I had grown so fond of parked right behind Derek's car. Derek and I watched in silence as Stiles got out, and then pushed his hands into the front pockets of his pants, leaning casually against the Jeep.

"Stiles won't like us all working together," Derek grinned, suddenly amused.

"No, probably not," I agreed, returning the grin with a smile of my own.

Derek chuckled then, warmly, and nodded his head at me in a goodbye. He walked slowly to his car, a swing in his step as he tossed a complacent smile in the direction of Stiles.

"Stiles," he said in lieu of hello or goodbye.

"Derek," Stiles echoed in the same tone. He didn't move until Derek's car had disappeared down the road.

Bear, delighted at the new arrival, hopped as best as he could over to Stiles, who rubbed him briefly before walking towards me. When he reached me, I let my arms fall from where they had been crossed at my chest. I immediately wrapped myself in the boy's warm embrace, closing my eyes and breathing in his comforting scent.

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine," I breathed. "Derek agreed not to kill him. To work with us on this one."

"He's the Kanima," Stiles sighed, leading me to the porch step.

"He's our - fine, _my_ \- friend too," I repeated for the second time. "That counts for something."

"Why?" Stiles asked. "Why is he your friend? He's been nothing but horrible to you."

"Not always. And I've rarely been a ray of sunshine to him too," I admitted. "It's how we are. Doesn't mean we don't care."

"He called you a freak."

I laughed lightly, "Stiles, if I turned away from everyone who has ever called me a freak or something of the like, I'd have no one." I smiled at him, "Trust me, I've heard much worse. I have a whole past that you don't know about yet."

"Well, I'd love to hear about it," Stiles smiled back.

"And you will," I promised, laying my head on his shoulder. "In time. First, we figure out where to go with Jackson."

"In time," Stiles echoed, resting his chin on my head as he stroked my back gently.

"I'd do it for you too," I whispered tiredly.

"Do what?" Stiles questioned, equally as quiet.

"Today, I considered bundling Lydia into my car and driving her out of here. I considered the same when I knew the truth about Jackson, despite the murders," I explained. "I'd do it for you too. I'd do it for _every_ one of you."

I felt Stiles smile into my hair. "I'd do it for you too," He said.

I leaned my head up to give him a gentle smile, and spotted the bruise on his jaw. Reaching up, I placed my lips against it. Stiles shivered against me, and I chalked it up to the cold, so I snuggled further into him.

And we sat there, together. Peacefully.

* * *

Naww! So, I hope everyone had a great Christmas and a Happy New Year. I'm a bit late with those well wishes, I know, but hey, better late than never.  
I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and I can promise you, there's more goodness to come. Olivia's backstory is going to be a little bit more explained, and we might just find out why her dad is just oh so suspicious. Plus, the return of some original characters from Little Red is long overdue, as is Olivia's talk with Deaton, don't you think? Oh it's all so exciting!  
I can't wait to hear from everyone!  
Megan 


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